Dragoncrest Cliffs my flat-line inhibition is my ammunition

On route, and making good time, nothing obtuse had caught his eye yet today but many hours still lie ahead. He'd been putting his paws to the miles lately, only amplified by the brand new presence of puppies--both newly arrived, and those potentially yet to come. Matched on top of shady neighbors and his yearling son gone full rogue (although without any sign of him in a good while), the gold-furred wocha had tightened the defenses for all his worth.

In passing, he was often not the only one out, and today's path rounded him out to Prince--it seemed, so said the scents first of all. When eventually he could spot another's motion up ahead, he lifted his nose from over the grounds then leveled a questioning squint that way--namely looking to suss out what he was up to (pacing?), beyond the likelihood of simply patrolling too and confirming what he suspected. Not even questioning it any more than that, Dio set to jogging over closer. His intentions, mainly, to check in and see if anything was going on while he was in the area anyway. "Hei," he greeted alongside a low chuff and his tail tall, with a slow sway about it.