Silvertip Mountain the serpent's words i remember well

He rounded a bend of the stony slope and found he was not alone once again—it was never a difficult feat to find company. Cloaked in creams and less fiery in coloration thereafter, she stood out against the open drop of timber and blue skies. At least she was easy on the eyes he concluded as he slowed to a stop; the bone was dropped and held possesively, thoughtlessly with a foot as he regarded her further.

"No," he said with a lick of his lips, "I haven't the faintest who it belonged to. They're gone now." Or so he believed, if the muddied variety of markings here and there were as stale as they seemed. Still an opportunity presented itself as he drew in the heady taste of the wilderness, and decided she seemed travelworn enough not to belong anywhere herself.

"My claim is further west. Were you looking for the wolves here? Or just wandering?"