Whitefish River but even if we won't admit it to ourselves

Alduin has the stranger’s attention. While the hellhound eyes him down, he asks his previous question. Only to be met with a low hum before an actual response sounds out between them. Alduin notes the deep ness of the voice and the accent as well. Spotted auds shift forward to list more closely. He’s never heard an accent like that — this man must be a foreigner. The sound of his voice doesn’t grate on his ears though, but rather, it intrigues him. 

He mentions he’s trailing after new recruits, so Alduin’s first assumption isn't exactly wrong, but not totally right. That sentence makes the cursed boy wonder what pack he may be in, or if he is attempting to start his own. There’s possible information to gain here, but Alduin will not allow himself to pry too much…yet, at least. 

So Alduin too would only offer a hum in response to his comment about new recruits. That is when the man asks him a question,

And you? We’re you following the game trail as well?

Alduin’s massive head lifts some from his usual resting place even with bulking shoulders. He tilts his chin up in a way that seems like he may be contemplating his answer, but ultimately shakes his head in a soft no.

He does allow himself to stray closer to the other male. Stopping only a far few feet away and flaring his nostrils to gather the man’s scent. His face stays in that perpetual scowl, but it seems to lighten some due to potential amusement.

“No, I was not following your game trail.” He hums absentmindedly. “I was wandering.” He supplies uselessly.

Though he tilts his head to him then. “You are from a pack then? Searching for new recruits?” Alduin thinks about making himself seem interested about possibly joining, but the groveling can wait. That’s not really his style anyway.