Dahozhoni Meadow runnin'

He reacts with his teeth, not his tongue. Vermouth approves. He gives no indication of it, however, keeping his expression carefully schooled as he waits to see if the young stranger might make a move beyond his reflex. He doesn't, so the elder of the two prowls just past him.

He turns his head and keeps walking until two yards stretch between them. Vermouth rolls to a stop and considers a moment before swiveling to face the other wolf again. He regards him with a contemplative look on his face.

"What's your name? And where are you headed?" asks Vermouth.