Ankyra Sound babies on the mind, yo

Perhaps the only location in the entirety of the wilds that wasn't affected by baby-fever, was Rusalka. Maybe it was because the inhabitants were too busy nursing wounds to try and nurse anything else, or the general malaise that had fallen across them since the battle; maybe it was just the fact that their leader more closely resembled a chunk of petrified wood than anything worth taking to bed — alas, one may never know. It was the furthest thing from Firefly's mind right now, anyway.

He was making his rounds along the familiar seaside trail when he spotted the wolf drifting across the sand, and he was alerted to the disdain they seemed to carry with them; whether it was for the iracible ocean or the seemingly endless chill of winter, they were glowering from their spot in the sand and Firefly wasn't sure if he wanted to approach them. Was that a resting bitch face or something more sinister - and did he care enough to find out? Apparently yes, because he was limping his way over after a minute or two of consideration — and as he came upon the stranger's prone form, he sank with a sigh to his haunches.

Firefly paused more-so to rest his stupid hip, and the stranger was conveniently located at a good enough distance that he felt like he'd worked his sore muscles without doing too much to strain them. They held the scent of Caiaphas upon them and that meant he'd have to play nice.

So, he cleared his throat and muttered, You uh... New?