The Heartwood i'm a ghost of you, you're a ghost of me

The pale figure was more than what he appeared to be. Those pale portions of him were only the markings along his ribs and the mask that painted his face. What Mou saw was the intent features of a titan staring directly at him. Through the tumbling foliage, he had seen the flash of something pale from beyond. The inkhound was not particularly fond of being approached while he was unaware. Instead of allowing the stranger to close space between them, Ford had met him first with a fierce mismatched gaze set on a black and white canvas.

“You should be careful,” the titan warned in a tone that carried no hint of threat – he was careful of that. “If you move that quietly through the woods, someone will think you're sneaking up on them.” The smoky baritone of his voice struck the air with a hint of authority. It was natural for him to take such a tone. Ford held his ground firmly while he waited for the other wolf to make a move. The tip of his tail swayed from left to right once.