Ouroboros Spine things become possible if we want them bad enough

Natjuk remains rooted to the spot, fully expecting his audience to answer. Not immediately, but soon. In place of word or song, he spots movement out the corner of his eye. Ah. They're closer than he thought, so wrapped up in his own conundrum. He observes the mountaineer, turning to face them and nothing more. The method with which they climb and settle upon the stone shows some experience with this terrain. The way some foundations disintegrate beneath the wolf's weight makes him second-guess himself.

Only when she reaches his comfortable perch does he grow animated, nostrils twitching and ears thrust forth atop his crown. Natjuk does not find himself starving for company, yet he is always excited in these first encounters of lupine blood. Is she the capricious sort? Bloodthirsty? She stops some distance away, out of his reach, with words of greeting. Sensible and hungry for company.

Natjuk responds in kind with a small inclination of his head. Hello. For once, he does not stop there, intending to spearhead the conversation. The wolves around here are quite talkative, after all.

You from around here? Probably not the best start. Maybe if he elaborates...? I mean, are you a newcomer? That's better.