Whitefish River but the boy survived his refusal to believe...

the chuff pulled his attention quickly, and the young man cupped his ears and turned his crown around to face the figure that had appeared. the man was a stranger to him – it was not the figure of kavik or liri but colored as though he could have been part of both of them. in spite of his physical appearance, the stranger was someone that was not familiar to the young wildling. he did not even believe that he had seen the male at their borders when he had called the plateau his home.
 
with a furrowed brow and narrow yellow eyes, illidan peered back at the man and allowed for his tail to waver just slightly between his hocks. distrust was evident on the young man’s features, as he was truly in no condition to get into a scuffle with a stranger so far from his home. he’d already suffered the events of the war on the cliffs; he didn’t need a looming beast in the woods to cause him further strife.
 
so, the boy positioned himself in a means of protecting the tender portions of his body. he did not make his movements obvious. illidan was simply showing that he wanted to make sure he was protected. then, he canted his head ever so slightly to the left and latched his sights with the other male. “you smell of pack,” he remarked carefully, noting the softer tones that were latched to the brute’s coat. there was a chance that he had seen where kavik and liri went.
 
“there was a group at the plateau. looks like they’re gone now, but did your group happen to take in any stragglers?”