Fox's Glade You were there, impossibly alone.

Apologies for my terribly late response. ^^;

Once it came time for his turn to be noticed, the Inuk’s stare only intensified. A part of him was curious, though a greater piece was protective of that which belonged to him; although the carcass was small and not that enticing, he knew not the history of the stranger, nor how fruitful his own past hunts might have been. Several different times, he glanced at the other male, eager to figure out what it was that had brought him there, as well as what he intended to do. Yet, when no answers were presented to him, he did not vocalise his musings but, instead, allowed for his jaws to loosen just enough that the lifeless fox slipped down to the earth below. There, creating a heap of disheveled fur and crooked limbs, he left his prize before moving his frontal half into the stream. And even as his head dipped downwards for a drink and quick rinse, his eyes remained on the nameless wolf.

The moment he’d deemed himself to be clean enough—remnants of blood still lingered, its stains having nestled in so deeply that it’d require several thorough cleanings to rid himself entirely of its presence—Alexander lifted his head and took another step into the stream, the carcass momentarily forgotten. For him to try and make friends was something that never happened, and likely never would, but he found himself being reminded more and more as of late that he needed to try and be civil, in the very least; his own conscious mumbled this to him on a regular basis for, deep down, he knew that he could never reclaim his homeland if he chased away all of those that he may meet. So, even though it bothered him to do so—and made him feel awfully uncomfortable—the male finally let out a low, “Hello.” And because he wasn’t the least bit familiar with the concept of being welcoming and friendly, his body remained just as tightly wound as it’d previously been, prepared for war in a world that knew only peace.