Bramblepoint One thorn of experience is worth a whole wilderness of warning

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He watches with polite reservation as the opposing male attempted to quickly and quietly ease through the stages of alarm; a decidedly normal response to Grievous' rather sudden presence. He spoke rhetorically as much as he did literally, so while he hadn't truly been looking for an answer to his first question, he was quite serious when asking the second.

The devil smiled, sharing his teeth in a manner that suggested he didn't care much how his query was answered.

I mean no harm, he's told, and by now his smile has faded— reclined into a more proper expression that made it hard to tell if he was pleased or disappointed in the response given.

S'pose I thought not, the grim wolf murmured; thine eyes are too kind; they betray thy true soul. He canted his head, and briefly his eyes dart away as he appeared to remember something related to this matter. Friend it is, he confirms, before his previous words have even had a chance to settle.

Hath thy no pack? he asked, only seeking to confirm his own suspicions as he was unable to pick up any discernibly long-term scents clinging to the nameless male's own musk.

Dost thou prefer the companionless road?

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