Northstar Vale will you not yield to immortal gods?

A woman greets him, but not yet a woman but a girl fresh out of childhood. She is young, like the others he met before her, recalling the druid and the other who had been just under or just above his age. It was not simply a coincidence then, this pack consisted solely of the young, both an advantage and a potential downfall. She poses her question with a hint of hesitance, and he turns to fully face her, not returning the beaming smile she shines in his direction. On his neck of the woods, such welcoming behavior is one that is rare, if not, suspicious. Or perhaps this simply was a pack as weak as those within made it out to be. If Rannoch had been the strongest of them all, Vaati believes silently that this will not be a pack to last the winter.

But he does not reply with aggression, only the undertone of severity, for it is a nature of his to appear much scarier than he actually intends; nevertheless, it keeps others away — for their own sake. He casually runs his tongue over his chops, swiping away what blood has trickled down from his wound, to his cheek and threatens to spill to the ground, potentially leaving what would be a trace of evidence that he was ever there. "I'm merely... landscaping," His explanation is simple, clearly a lie, but his expression reeks of a condescending amusement that does not take the question seriously. If not for the fact that he amassed her size clearly, perhaps she would have taken him to be a loner trickster at her borders, and in a way, he was. He smiles suddenly, quaintly in a way that makes it evident it is forced, "Do you know where I can find a certain large, burly, gray-scaled man... I believe he leads this pack?" Ah, now his motives are purely selfish humor. It is odd that this is the kind of thing that gets a kick out of him, but it does, a macabre sense of enlightenment stemmed only from the seeds of utter darkness implanted in his mind from the very beginning; the kind of humor that existed in Blackfeather alone. It was one of the many reasons they displayed the heads of their enemies on their own borders, for the sadistic irony of it all.