Whitefish River Forever Wandering

He hadn’t even gotten halfway to fully consuming the fish when he sees a silvery wolf come into view. Yes he’d seen her just a bit away, though he didn’t think she’d entertain the though of speaking with him on the path he thought she would take. He is not threatened by her presence, for she seems tranquil enough. Of course, as long as he meets her with the same energy he presumes. 

On the other hand, he wasn’t aware of the other male that shows himself confidently to him. Cross can see the way he eyes the female, something akin to concern laced into his stare. Cross cannot see too well from here so he doesn’t look further into it.  

An easy smile graces his handsome face. Blackened tongue swiping over rose colored nose and lips, cleansing himself of any scales or fish remains. “I don’t, actually.” He comments back, voice smooth and confident. 

His facial expression is relaxed as he stands to his full, massive height. “I smelt the trails of your pack mates further in but didn’t know it came out this far. You have a nice amount of territory then.” He states. An impressed lilt accompanied his voice. 

His heterochromatic eyes wander to the piebald male that protectively stands a few meters away then back to the she-wolf. “Since I am trespassing it would only be fair to offer what I’ve caught then?” He raises his voice an octave in questioning before grabbing the fish in his jaws. With careless ease, he sidles over to the other female, dropping the fish before her.

Once there, he lowers his shoulders downward and arches himself into an exaggerated, show-like bow, oddly colored eyes gazing up to the flint pelted wolf. “Ma’am.” He rolls out confidently in acknowledgment, a mischievous smile with it. 

“It’s not much but it’s honest work.” He chuckles, coming up from his lowered position. “You can call me Cross.” He introduces, eyes mysterious yet easygoing while he gazes down to her.