Cedar Sweep the whole world is sleeping

When he hears a voice, it is like the sound is coming from the other end of a deep cavern; it is far away and echoing for a split second, an irregular moment while the rest of him catches up. The tone isn't mean but it isn't altogether friendly either. The stranger is off to one side, as if they've stopped to thumb a lift from a passing good samaritan. Titmouse glances their way for a second and tries to think of a witty response, but this falls flat. He just kind of.. stares... blankly... And then gives a little snort.

Just hungry, the boy grumbles, not at all intending to slow his fluid stride. Whatever this stranger wants, he knew without any thought or consideration that there was nothing Tit could do for him. Although it had been quite a while since the boy had seen anyone at all - friendly or otherwise - that even when he was passing by the smokey beast, he was silently reconsidering. It took a moment for Titmouse to stop, to slouch, and to watch. But he did. He let out a small sigh that seemed much too old a mannerism for his teenage self, and with the full weight of his angst he commented, You any good at huntin'?