Thunder Dome well the raven is a wicked bird

thorn thought beneath the silvery ripple of mahler's fur that there was some other scent; yet as he breathed in, the evidence of it was wispy. he himself bore evidence of recent company, as mahler had dryly noticed. thorn wondered if to some wolves, the evidence of another wolf's presence was a deterrence. more wolves often meant more competition, and thorn was not a brute that walked into confrontation unless it was of his own joyous doing.

once both had completed their mutual assessment, thorn stepped back to give the pewter-flecked beast his space. he saw no point in lying, and so, answered truthfully. "aye, three of us, though we each travel our own path. and you?"