Larksong Grotto Reticulate yet flesh eating, Pythagoras has won

It took little time before his auds caught faint traces of scratching amongst the foliage, loud and purposeful at first before they ceased not moments after. "Hello there," he greeted as the russet outline of a canid made its way up the rise, its shape well defined and sharp for the most part. Without much of a thought, he returned the friendly gesture, offering the man a sideways smile as his plumed tassel dusted the back of his limbs.

"A wolf of the Grotto, I presume?" he continued, eyes darting up and down as he took in the fellows lean figuring. "Say, what were you doing back there amongst the trees? I'm curious to know." He let out a breathy laugh, tongue protruding to dampen his lips in a lame attempt to mask his eager pushes.