Sleepy Fox Hollow but a part of me knows I'm growing too old

They would not wait long, it seemed—no sooner did Argent begin to explain that the last he had seen Mahler was a pack just off the mountainside when a thin she-wolf came to view, her brisk and unwelcoming nature allowing the words to die upon his tongue.

“What do you want?”

He regarded her—a coolness masking itself to his features and his shoulder brushing gently to Sialuk, who carried a gift for the man they came to visit. “We’re looking for—“

But again, the words died upon his tongue when frosted eyes lifted to the movement in his peripheral vision, and the man he sought strode forward, easing his side into the shoulder of the brusque guardian. “Mahler,” he greeted, the ice in his voice melting as he tipped his muzzle downward to both—relieved, in truth, that he had not gotten the man’s whereabouts wrong. “It’s good to see you.”

The presence of the salty woman kept him from greeting the man with an affectionate embrace—and instead, he glanced down to the gentle Sialuk, his smile widening. “This is Sialuk of Moonspear. We were in the Sunspire and I wished to visit and see how you were.”