Bramblepoint Tōboe

For a moment, the herd-stalker's ears twitched and her brow flickered with confusion as the ivory he-wolf dipped low with a yap but did not speak. A heartbeat later, understanding smoothed the perplexed wrinkles of her expression. "Ah," she breathed gently. 

"You are one who does not speak," she murmured, offering him a small smile. "My daughter was born without the ability to make sound as well." Lótë wondered silently if the man could mouth his words as Wilwarin did, or if perhaps he spoke the same sign language her family was learning, but did not ask for the sake of propriety. 

"May I?" she wisped tentatively, gesturing towards his kill with a dip of her tawny diadem. "I will not take your meal, I only wish to smell it for sickness." The dove clarified as she tiptoed closer, eyeing Shiranui for signs of aggression. 

Granted that the garnet-eyed male allowed her close enough to sniff his kill, Lótë would edge closer and lower her head before taking a few whiffs. If he reacted with territorialism, the doe would flit away and dart back through the woods to safety.