Kintla Flatlands Scorn the Apricorn for it's Forlorn from the Tree

Destined to run into the path of something Cry had scoured the earth and found a trail, fresh, and heading in the opposit direction of his own. It was a wolf, and only just pressed into the flats of Kintla. Turning about, he loooked for what he could, mind already hashing out details of this not-too-far target. However, as hard as it worked, the only thing he could pick up was that she was a female. But would a pack wolf cross so far away? The scent was not the same as Caiaphas' own, who he had not forgotten, nor ever would. It was not Gwen, nor Kai. Someone else lurked here, but it seemed the prints were carefree, not searching. Could this be Fire? The dame the Coywolf searched about for?

It was then his glacials landed on another, a blonde who held a bit of softer brown in a plush coat. And he watched her, as she watched him. Hazels were the gems she had over him, scanning him as he ended his search for her. Alert, he tok a few steps forward, but chose not to simply dash off to her. Whoever this was. So Cry sat down once he was withing moderate speaking distance, not close enough to gather any more details about her through smell, but close enough to get what he could through sight and conversation.

"Hello." The baritones rumbled between them as the wintery man spoke to the younger woman.