Dragoncrest Cliffs I'm a toy, toy

Arlo doesn’t get much of a response from the other pale male. He seems to marginally relax but there isn’t another sign that he feels okay. Feeling a little on edge now, his tail begins to slow and his face fall neutral. He doesn’t step forward to close the distance and make it easier on the both of them and instead, awkwardly watch until the question is blurted out. Pretty sure that the wolf had zero socialization growing up, Arlo tries to keep himself loose so not to strike anything in the other.
 
“I’m Arlo. I come from Seageda, where we are originally from,” he explains, though he’s only able to answer based on a technicality. He doesn’t remember much, if anything, from Seageda since he’d been raised primarily in Trigeda after the first few months of his life. “Who are you?”