Barrow Fields Filter out the noise, focus on my voice and fall in

Fear. He can smell it, feel it in the air even before the stranger stammers out a response. The prince relaxes further, smirking slightly as he speaks again. Castor Cambria, Prince of Skyhold. Don't be afraid; I mean you no harm. Come closer. He moves forward even as he says it, searching for the other wolf in the darkness. The stranger sounds masculine, young like himself — perhaps an ally in this lonely time. Or competition. Only time will tell.