Black Morass Entombed me

Hemlocke remained concentrated on his task at paw, digging around the fungi he had found and settling them into the elk skin. Upon plucking one more and lifting his crown to deposit it, darkened red eyes locked onto another- red eyes too, yet brighter then his own of dried blood and rimmed in blue around the pupil. Eyes which looked both wild and weird to Locke, then again, who was he to judge?

Caught off by the sudden arrival of another, Hemlocke's devilishly pointed ears turn back and his head rises high, curious just so as the man before him. He was a far bit shorter then himself, yet most were other then the behemoths within his ranks. Equally as often was, he was a heavier being them Locke, who's barreled chest sloped to a thin waste-line supporting long, stilt legs. A haunting wolf, cloaked in white with darkness around his eyes.

The Hellhound was torn between making a defense here or simply to try and enjoy the other wolf's company. He was, after all, within one of the two lands which bordered their territory all into this little 'land bowl' around the mountains. But alas, Locke was far less aggressive then his counterparts. He was weary of the man and yet, he by no means trespassed. He was but a visitor that happened to catch an interest in who he saw as Hemlocke had interest to him.