The Sentinels seeing the bottom of your empty bowl

Hope I may? This is backdated a bit before Cry made it back to Shadewood.

Before Cry had jumped to conclusions, he allowed himself the leisure of studying the individual before taking his leap. It was darkening rather quickly, and visuals were held ajar to suspicion as Cry's night vision was used. This was a rather large bodied male, but then again, the fluff was quite impressive. They could have had the same stature as himself, an athletic build, but his coat was not as dense; this one was from the North. Had to be, unless it wa just bloodlines. Cry had been tracking some unnown scent for three days, and it seemed to lead him here, betwixt new born trees fighting for life.

The bay was not a fond memory for him. The coast itself was something much more painful for him as he recalled the times he held with a few here. But now was not the time to dwell on it.

With the colors of night swiftly coming upon them, the dark phantom eyes the resting male with what he could decipher. And no colors could be determined, not that it mattered. But with silence as his ally, he padded up to the relaxing lupine, ice blue glacials watching for any hostile movement. "Fine night it is, isn't it?" The assassin asked, a hint of his own calm settling him into a relaxed stand beside the watchful lupine.