Morningside Cuesta On The Edge

Grayday backed up as the other male stood, giving him space to come down from his perch - and himself enough space to put up a good defense, if the other planned to attack. But Day sensed no aggression from the other, and found himself chuckling heartily when he spoke.

"It's been a long time since someone's had occassion to call me that," he exclaimed, tail wagging at the thought. Truthfully, it hadn't been a term tossed around much when he was a lad, and his own father had called him "buck-o" more than anything else - but somehow, he was still reminded of his father. "How old are you, anyway?" he wondered, his tone a bit admiring as he glanced over the other once more. Signs of age were written clearly over the other's face, but he seemed strong and limber.

"I'm Grayday, by the way," he added, ignoring the other's quip about the kids. Wolves would find out about them one way or another - this wolf would probably be able to smell them on his coat, considering how close he stood.