Ouroboros Spine for he will never know peace

vilkas watches with weary and hard eyes as the paler male's ears and posture lowers. it sates the initial spike of aggression but cannot soothe it away entirely. vilkas is on edge of his own doing and though the stranger appears to be submissive and cheerful neither are sediments that the firebrand returns. his posture is still sharp, muscles taunt with a distrust that he doesn't bother to conceal. he doesn't trust the stranger and he is uncomfortable with being so high near a stranger. he isn't about the apologize for it; it's not the youngest whitemane's style.

vilkas doesn't dare shift his gaze from the other male for too long, but he peers down, takes a small, shallow breath and takes a subtle step closer to the rock face. the world spins for a small second before he fixates his seaweed green gaze upon the pale male; whose presence he nearly forgot for a moment while he suffered momentary vertigo. there is a part of vilkas that wants to ask him why he's on the spine, if he's going down to investigate whatever's left of the forest but ...then there's the part of him that doesn't actually care. he lets out a small huff then, teeth grinding together as he silently curses the predicament he's found himself in. "if you're going down into the territory below don't bother. there's nothing worth seeing." the breach of silence surprises even vilkas himself but the firebrand is quick to hide the surprise before it lingers too long and runs a further risk of being picked up by his pallid companion.