Hushed Willows everyone wants the same thing

The greeting caused him to move. Assessing it seemed friendly enough, Baelfire turned his neck awkwardly. The sting of old wounds on the left side still bothered him in the cold - it was a creaking and slow gesture. "Hail" but not well met. Not yet anyway. He had to draw that conclusion for himself. The weather was cold and cloudy, but the dark held everyone under equality. 

The other man closed the distance, but Holland was eager to keep it. Though he did not move, his lip curled inwardly (his face remained neutral) at a stranger getting close. He didn't, couldn't lift a paw. He was nearly a pacifist in practice, but would defend himself if required. Eyeing the wolf with his singular good eye, the other was a soulless socket.

"Do you know the name of this realm?" the man would ask this one. He had traveled far and wide, forever searching for a place to settle. He needed to know the name of this place before deciding on anything.