Shadewood Knackin’ for a Cracker, Smacking like a Snacker

The crunch of a swallow of snow that had not been made under his careful feet- While the echoes of such were inhaled by the white world around him, Cry caught the source, and he froze. First, his body remained rigid, ears swiveling to redirect his audible sight to this noise, judging the extremity of this situation. It would gauge whether this was a threat, how heavy it was, and where it was headed. However, the shuffling...it sounded unsure. The crunches were made disproportionately, seconds of difference passing between each of the last. That meant he hadn't been spotted yet, and that whomever or whatever was near was not heading for him. Taking this as a safe side, the Assassin immediately directed a iceberg gaze to a mound of snow that was peaked by a mountain of slight browns and meek clayful orchers.

It was something living, obviously. But it seemed to be struggling, to have weakness entombing it's movements. It simply lied there...helplessly.

Without much left in this circumstance, the Phantom changed his direction, ending the circuit and begining a vector direct gor this curious anomaly. Happening upon it, however, the ex-Nightmare discovered a male, slightly smaller than he, and nearly Coyish in appearances. Stuck between being kind and minding his business, Cry instead chose to follow Gwen and Phex's advice...

to take a chance at being friendly.

To make himself feel better about such a foriegn concept, he backed it up with the  logic that should anything outlandish or hostile happen with this man, Cry could exploit whatever weakness held this wolf down, and destroy him.

"Do you need assistance?" the words broke free from the void-hued timber in a chorus of baritones. Idly, Cry looked about him to ensure that this was no ruse from the nearby settling packs. He was out here sticking his neck out...
This was a terrible idea, indeed.