Frogspawn Swamp thousands of years, an eternity, without changing

Now that he had pressed the encounter just enough, he was already starting to wish he didn't recognize him.. now that he didn't know what to do with this--let alone what he wanted from it. Firefly Glen, still a touchy subject for him, was his only real point of reference to this coywolf. With an air of tension keeping his neutrality a little coarse, Antares eyed the other looking for something else, but beyond the strange scents he wore now, he didn't get much out of it besides more questions to consider. Antares, he corrected rather indifferently since he was close enough. Aiwë's suggestion be anyone hummed somewhere in the back of his mind, making him wonder if it would be easier to let it all go that way. It didn't matter what he called him anymore, anyway.

I haven't seen anyone in a while, and never come this way. So is your pack near here? he asked, never quite able to ease off the squint entirely. Curiously wary was the best way to put it because he thought he recognized something suspicious when he saw it--maybe more than the fact that out of everyone, Charles had managed to survive too, and gone off to join the Saints. Antares had stayed so removed from everything else lately that it had been easy to forget about the faraway packs, ones beyond the Wilderness and even now the coastline he was getting acquainted with.