Deepwood Weald keeper

raedwulf had been watching for only a few seconds now. wolf steps had come to stop at the top of a ridge of dirt and stone. below, a she-wolf hunted.
he did not speak the language that most did in these lands. it would be useless to attempt communication, but raedwulf could not help but to sate his own manful curiosity.
he leaps down, landing upon thudding paws. descending the hill, watching as the woman voraciously feasts upon the measly meal she had conquered for herself. drawing a breath and then chuffing loudly, announcing his presence just as his head parts through flowering brush.
Þū hæfst þē sylfe gemetegod lȳt hūsceapan. meager, also, is his hope that she might understand his tongue. brown eyes looking then upon her face, to gauge any reaction. any sort of recognition.