Bearclaw Valley ‘Arise, devour.'

He wasn't sure what counted as Ursus territory; when he had met Merrick the boy had claimed the meadow, but the scents drew him to this valley where they remained stronger by far. Perhaps the boy was an aspiring King in the same vein as his sister, eager to lay claim over more than just a single territory despite the logistic nightmare that would pose. It didn't really matter. There were other scents beyond the shadow's — mostly men, none of which he recognized. It seemed more and more that Revui had fallen-in with a horde of bachelors.

Speaking of which, there came a subdued call from behind Revui and so he halted and turned to regard the oncoming shape. He made sure to twist his healing wound away from their line of sight; he did not know these wolves nor did he trust them yet, and any injury could be seen as a weakness to be exploited. As the stranger drew closer, the leviathan observed with the frigid calm inherent to most of his Moonspearian ilk - a shrewd gaze, and the slightest prickling of his jagged top-coat.

Beyond that there was silence as he assessed the stranger, as if expecting them to initiate something. A fight, perhaps - that would certainly be entertaining (albeit a bit idiotic considering his current state).