Gyrfalcon's Keep My eyes are made of acid

Paws scraping the ground as they move through the nooks and crannies that will further their distance up the keep, Ariadne lets out a quiet grunt as their paw pad stings with a distinct burning. They pause momentarily now, lifting their paw to give the scrape a lick or two.

A scent passes them; distinctly canine, wolflike and therefore rather intimidating. Half-prick ears twitch, searching for sounds that may allude to the strangers presence. They are not one for conflict; far more interested in avoiding it before it has the chance to reach them

The isle rarely had visitors, the possibility of a stranger feels.. well, strange, to them now. Though coming to the mainland, they knew it would happen eventually.