Tormented Tarns you got time to reconcile with your fear

They seemed to be on equal footing now. Both travelers, homeless and looking for greener pastures. Tulimaq wanted to know more about where this wolf came from; what sort of blood ran in his veins? Did he have ties to Tartok, and if not — perhaps he could recruit him. But Tulimaq was no recruiter. There was no outpost for him to escort anyone to, no issumatar to pass judgement. He let the idea slide.

Hearing of the west was good enough. It sounded like these wilds went on for quite a while, which intrigued him. Tulimaq gave a shrug as his response to the question; then, after thinking a moment he said, I encountered three different packs. There is one in the shadow of the mountain, alongside a river. In the center of the valley is a passive family, which intrigued me. And then due north of them is a newly settled pack — migrants from the mountains, they said. Of the three groups I'd be most wary of them, as they're the only beasts in the valley that show any sign of strength or prowess. He was thinking of his spontaneous spar with their guardsman (Terance), which had been quite thrilling.

Then again, maybe this wolf was looking for somewhere calm to settle. Tulimaq could have warned about the mountain-sized wolf of Easthollow (Greyback) but chose to withhold that; the old man was mighty in size but as meek as a vole from what he could discern, so he was no threat. He was still itching to know if all that bulk was muscle, and if that giant could pack a punch — but his mind began to wander, curious about the West and of what this stranger might have seen. After a moment to let all the information sink in, Tulimaq asked, What of the west? I imagine it is not void of life. My hunt for sparring partners has run a little dry.