Seaside Moors you be the hero, i'll be the sidekick

Rolling waves beyond his reach, distant enough to not disturb him but near enough to be observed. Aningan watched them closely, curiously, lost in thought; there were many things to consider, ideas he thought to make realities. But these things turned trivial, easily brushed away to the back of his mind, when he heard the summoning of an unknown. Pricked ears swiveled in the direction of origin, head turning shortly thereafter to drag his gaze away from the sea. Standing and stretching, he focused his attention back on the present and sought out the stranger.

When he arrived, the other was not alone—he spied the familiar form of Tundra standing opposite to the stranger, seemingly conversing. Slowing to a trot and then a mere walk, he continued forward until he was next to his packmate, whose shoulder he bumped gently with his own. There he stopped and looked the other male over, curious but skeptical; one whiff and the myriad of scents that he wore with his own became obvious—he wasn’t looking to stay. There was something familiar about the scents, however, but the northerner couldn’t figure out what exactly it was. For now, he ignored it and said, “Salutitsinik. What is your business here?” A pack wolf visiting the lands of another pack—what reasons did he have?