Stavanger Bay maybe they'll keep this snarling heart contained

Luckily for Ravus, Doe was quite used to wolves who spoke very little. Her own children were not of an age to speak clearly (even Qilaq kept her words short and sweet) and her husband had never been one given to long soliloquy. It suited Doe, who enjoyed the sound of her own voice far more than any other's. Still, in this moment, she felt no need to speak more than her initial invitation as she shuffled her own body forward to meet the stranger's.

Strength, health, salt, the dusky shewolf noted, snuffling delicately at the other wolf's pelt. She shot an approving looking toward her mate as she stood back, measuring the male with her eyes, now. Like Szymon, she could appreciate the rough, flinty look of the male - he'd do well among them. She could already tell.

"Can you fish, stranger?" she asked, finding that she did have a few questions for him. Two, namely. "What are you called?"