Hideaway Strath Moon Song

The Grandmaster is doing his usual duties, tending to and peeing on the borders to show his claim. Until he roams towards one spot and smells. A stranger’s scent. He knows not who has wandered into his borders this time and he even laughs out loud to himself. Their borders and pack lands have been quiet for some time, but the more frequent visitors seem to be making up for that.

So he follows it further into the strath. His massive form sniffs and snoffs until he’s making visual contact with whoever decided to wander in here unannounced. A smirk pulls at his lips and his golden eyes akin to the sun rake over his interesting pelt. Oh, this should be fun, as per usual.

Though he does sense something akin to dread regarding their little visitor. His steps are borderline stumbling and his form is weak looking and frail. Perhaps the Saints do live up to their name in more ways than one. This man seeks help. Deciding he will give it to him, he trots up beside and stops in front of him, intentionally blocking him from going any further. Perhaps he’s a bit closer than he needs to, but Kyn never usually minds anyone’s personal space. 

He lowers his head slightly and eyes meet the others own. “Don’t look too good there, sweetheart.” He says in a way that is just a hairs breath away from being teasing. “Need something?” He asks with an upwards tilt to his tone in question.