Cedar Sweep nordstjärna

Night is peaceful. It is eerie to some people too, with the absence of activity, but this lack is one of the aspects that draws Rosenskärm; aside from the brilliance of the cosmos and the whispering of stars, he likes the quiet clandestine nature of things. He has lived a nearly-nocturnal lifestyle for many months now and so, when the stranger comes crawling from among the trees towards him, he is alert to it.

When the stranger's deep voice fades from the woods Rosenskärm relishes the ensuing silence. It goes on a touch too long; but he studies the stranger, finds that even from a distance there is a weight to their scent. A layered quality. Male, female, young, old.

This wolf is from somewhere settled.

Skärm clues in finally.

Ja, mn, I am interest in jager—you say, hunt? In hunt, yes.

Perhaps in the daylight this stranger is something fine to behold, donning sungold furs and everything. In the dark they are a muddy brown with faded lines across their face; nothing much to look at.