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

It would have sounded silly if he would have just tried to interrogate the woman on whether she had seem some red wolf around. It would have sounded even sillier should he try to converse with her as though he weren't in the middle of busily looking for another. But he had started this exchange, and he couldn't simple stop ot on account of his predicament. It was a struggle to figure his act for now as the assassin was not expert in public affairs.

Studying the creamy wolf, the Phantom nodded at her greeting just as he took in the scent from her that rode the breeze which backswayed from her. It was faint as much as he got, but multiple wolves lay laden upon it - this girl was of pack. That complicated matters much more than he would have liked. Secrecy had been the entirety of his life, but here and now he had to become something completely different for the increase of the pack’s numbers. “Are you busy?” Heasked in spite of his introverted instincts screaming at him not to indict someone else on this foolhardy hunt, but it was the only thing the ebonian could think to do.