Dragoncrest Cliffs if i tell my bones they're a cage

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Ravus did not expect company. Besides the fact that he simply wasn't the companionable sort he had not thought he might run into another so far north and within the confines of the jagged cliffs. Why he had not considered it he couldn't say, aside from the fact that he rarely sought company and thus hoped that all others would be the same as he. Ravus had yet to reach his intended path when a low, lilting yip called out to him. The commander of the hunt paused, his broad shoulders steeling though whether it was from the shock of having been in the presence of another and having not known it (not to mention the shame tied along in that) or the wind he was not entirely able to tell. For the briefest of moments the hunter considered ignoring the beckon for his attention, to push forward and pretend that he'd heard naught.

He was not good at being sociable and many times his conversations ended up being awkward for both parties involved. Still, his nature as a wolf, as a creature that was inherently meant to be social, dictated that he at least try to commune and thus Ravus turned to face the stranger that had called to him. She was a sylph of a woman, dainty and bore a coat the color of a fawn. She was, at the very least, pleasing to the eye; but he did not break his silence. Instead, he looked to her expectantly, his flame orange gaze silently inquiring what it was that she wanted of him. For surely she wanted something else she wouldn't have called for him, he assumed.

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