Silver Moraine show me the way

As expected, the arrival of another sent a ripple through the earth. Broad shoulders tensed, his tail unnaturally still. Pale eyes flicked to the male; tall, dark, and strong, his face etched with the marks of war. He carried the unmistakable scent of a pack, likely one of those Astier had scented earlier.
Yet, the ghost did not waver. Though his stance remained firm, there was no challenge in it; only caution, a quiet assertion of neutrality. A smirk tugged at his lips, teasing the weight of the moment. „The latter would be more fitting,” he mused, amusement threading his voice. He had no interest in provoking the shadowed figure before him, despite what his words suggested. Different as they were, light and dark, ghost and warrior, strength lay in them both.
His gaze drifted briefly to the towering peaks in the distance before returning to the stranger, curiosity now edging his features. Where did he belong? Head tilting slightly, he murmured, „I’ve come to haunt the mountains.” The ghost of Evenfall, a title once whispered in the past, a ghost wandering the heights his family once ruled. The stars he was meant to inherit, to lead. „Perhaps these will suffice.” His voice was low, coarse, unreadable. A silent invitation hung in the air; an unspoken assurance that he had not come to conquer.
At least, not yet.