Silver Moraine tell me, mockingbird

it is during his questioning of the man that another scent drifts near. it is inherently feminine, but feminine in a way that is... alluring. masa's attention flickers with obvious acknowledgement of it, but not in the way they might expect. his lip curls, in disgust.
a foreleg raising to briefly cover his nose, to try and snuff it out from his attention.
the man moving, to position himself between masa and that woman who lurked, made his eyes flash with offense. he had no interest in her. you do not need to behave that way. masa says, monotone and drab. his voice lacking much of any emotion, like it often did not. my tastes are not for the woman.
and that is that, as he looks around, eyes working over these lands. if cen was not here, where would he be? he recalls the detail about the caribou, and masa seems to relax in recognition then. perhaps that would help this man.
this man, masa begins. he has one eye only. he moves with quick foreleg to make as if he might scar his own eye, nails flashing. the other taken by wolf's teeth.
he follows the caribou.