Hoshor Plains razer blade eyes

The dark doe eyes that Wicken's own were faced with appeared unthreatening in their nature, but the diversion of their eyes was quick and seamless. A practiced ballad in the waltz of the young males dance of conversation. Instead, the dark amber of Wicken's sight focused on the horizon behind the small female figure. The rolling hills of gold expanding out of sight behind her in a textured frame that labelled her the most picturesque object in his peripheral vision. Her voice gave way a multitude of information to him despite her lack of knowledge in relation to their location. His dark ears twitched in acknowledgement. The answer was not what the gentleman had hoped for, but Wicken could make due in the meantime.

That's alright. Wicken ensured to speak gently. They spoke in such a way to ensure that they would not evoke another apology in their presence. After all, the young wolf should have been the first to apologize for such an intrusion upon another's space. My apologies for encroaching upon your hunt. He had seen the bird flit away over the horizon with her in pursuit. Wicken had known failure in hunting many times, so he was sure to continue on the conversation without dwelling on the hunt statement.

  

The grey wolf rose to a standing position with a large head resting even with lanky shoulders. A submissive stance seemingly misplaced on such a large frame as he peered to the direction he had originally been going. This valley holds very little in the realm of small prey for predators such as ourselves. There is a river to the west that might hold more opportunity if you would like another chance. It was a gentle offer to the smaller canine. I have been through here before. A last minute add on to assure her that he knew the area. Just not the name.