Silver Moraine tell me, mockingbird

faust let out a dry chuckle at the man’s dismissal of tikigâk’s presence, shaking his head slightly. is that right? there was no challenge in his voice, just wry amusement, though he did not move from where he stood. whatever the man’s tastes were, faust did not care—but he would not assume safety where none was given.
it was the next set of words that froze him, that wiped the humor clean from his face like snow melting beneath the sun. one eye. wolf’s teeth. follows the caribou.
the breath he took was slow, but his stomach coiled tight. he knew exactly who the man-loving-man spoke of.
sun eater, faust uttered, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek, jaw tightening.
the impending war had made the eyeless soot a marked man—he had been too blind to see it coming, but now? now the bloodshed was inevitable.
he exhaled sharply, glancing to @Tikigak just briefly before stepping toward masa.
he’s a wanted fuckin’ man? his tone was almost casual, but the weight behind it was anything but. who else was looking for him?
his paws carried him forward, predatory, eyes searching the man’s face. who else hunts him? who else wants him dead?