Firefly Glen Shoulders back, chest out, and eyes raised.

The way the stranger snaked down in to the dirt, so there was no beginning nor end to them, was an oddity that would have put Glaukos further on-edge had he not been so greatly pleased by the display; it fed some semblance of ego within him, a deeply ingrained bestial piece of his soul.

They did not speak. That was fine — Glaukos had been on the road so long now, he'd found contentment in the silence and the solitude. He did give a boof of welcome, if one could call it that. His attention did not drift even as he stalked through the weald, keeping his tattered ears shifting so they could listen to the stranger's movements.

He could not see him except, sometimes, those eyes — and he did wonder if this wolf was alone.