Firefly Glen dark wings, dark words

The sound of anothers approach caused Hydra to lift her nose from the earth; one ear swiveled in his general direction before she caught him in her own peripheral. He blended in the forest better than she with his tawny furs that held the shades of shadow and tree alike in its variation, and as he chuffed Hydra turned her head toward him to regard him wholly. Upon his person was no mark or color that indicated he was an enemy to her, and so her demeanor remained aloof rather than unwelcoming. No fresh injuries, or old ones that she could see from this distance, either. His display was sign enough he did not intend to pose a threat, but Hydra remained guarded nonetheless. She trusted the intentions of no stranger anymore. 

That did not mean she was unkind. She whuffed in turn, ears pricked. Perhaps he might know something, or have seen someone she sought on his own travels. Though her attentions seemed set upon him, Hydra heeded their surroundings even still. She listened for signs that any others might be among them, but for now it seemed to be just the two of them. Although Hydra was hardly in a good mood, that did not mean she was unwilling to meet a fellow wolf that might aid in her pursuit of wolves she hoped to see dead, inadvertently or otherwise.