Blackfoot Forest I have no disguise you can't see through.

The man gives a snort.

This one was all words. Usually by now Mesa would have abandoned the conversation; he did not know why he stayed. There was a certain familiarity to the way the other wolf spoke, though. Perhaps that was it.

Disinterest or aggression. It sounded as though this wolf had encountered many desperate others, one by one. Mesa knew how hard life could be alone — he thrived, but that always meant others suffered. It was the law of the universe. He felt no pity for this one, only understanding.

As he turned to leave the wolf gave their name — but all that the white wolf did in response was grunt, and turn an ear to hear for it. He did not offer his own, and would not. All this stranger wanted was company and Mesa wasn't interested.