Bitterroot Valley ✢ With the holes in his sneakers

The other man's voice rang out, and Veteran turned to him, head tilted with interest. Veteran had been perceived as kind. Peaceful. Such a positive appraisal was unexpected, but welcome. It warmed Veteran's heart to reflect on how far he had come from the warmongering days of his youth. Veteran smiled, pleased with the positive turn the encounter had taken. He was always happy to share a meal if it meant he might make a friend.

The man spoke once more, this time almost under his breath. He seemed to be commenting on the marmots' behavior, which elicited a wider grin from Veteran. It was unusual for him to encounter another wolf with an interest in the surrounding ecology, for any reason other than hunting it of course. 

The man went on to compliment his hunting, and Veteran accepted the praise with a nod. He swallowed his last bite and spoke his reply. "Thank you." He was just about the furthest thing from a conventional hunter, and his style was rarely appreciated. 

"There is much here worth protecting," Veteran agreed with him. "I've seen what happens when nature isn't respected, and it's not pretty. I'm glad you're here to protect the balance."

Maybe he was pushing his luck, but he decided to add, "I'd like to stay in the area too, as long as I'm welcome. My name is Veteran." He'd be a good neighbor and keep his hunting away from the valley, of course. He just felt in his bones that he wasn't quite ready to leave the Taiga behind.