Fox's Glade You were there, impossibly alone.

When he lifted his head, having quenched his thirst and eased the dryness of his throat, Talion's periwinkle gaze fell upon the figure of an unknown wolf. At once, he felt his muscles tighten - what was it about the pale wolves of this place that creeper him the hell out? The other male stared at him from a short distance away, white pelt muddied and bloodied, with the broken carcass of a fox firm between his jaws. It was his eyes, however, that made Talion's guard hairs stand on edge: the most vivid shade of crimson he'd ever seen.

The yearling did not move to aapproach this stranger, nor slacken into a more approachable stance. He merely remained in place, blue eyes never straying from the beast who stood silent nearby, holding his ground until his newest acquaintance made his intentions known.