Wapun Meadow A taste of winter is on the air

Sorin hears the other stalking through the grasses towards him. He bit off a growl of annoyance as the wolf moved through the night; it wasn't that he was loud, but he wasn't exactly being quiet either. Sorin figures that the stranger has not picked up on the pheasant scent, else he would probably be quieter. At least, Sorin hoped that would be the case.

The stranger called quietly to him, and Sorin carefully stalked within a few paces of the male. "Hi," the rugged male replies in his typically neutral tone. Sorin can barley make out the scarring on the strangers face, but makes no mention of it. It isn't important, and it's not his place to pry. "Listen, I'm stalking pheasants. You can join me if you want, but be quiet and follow my lead." While it may be presumptive of him to order around a pack wolf, Sorin simply doesn't care right now what the other might think. He has one goal in mind, and that's to find where the birds are sleeping. If the stranger wants to join, then its a extra pair of eyes and possibly fangs in the morning. If he doesn't, it wouldn’t change Sorin actions. Honestly, he couldn't care less. As long as the stranger didn’t jeopardize his hunt that is.