Redhawk Caldera who are you talking to

It was one of those winter days that seemed to be cold and hot at the same time; the afternoon sun was high in the sky, warming the charcoal fur along Elwood's back, but at the same time the landscape still glistened with frost and snow. He was meandering through the forest, admiring the way the tree limbs had crystallized. Here and there, he spotted melting icicles, though he knew that when night fell they would freeze once more.

With a crunching of his paws, he continued east, heading towards the borders. He planned to perform one of his brief patrols -- thirty minutes at the most -- then return to his den, perhaps for a nap. When he intercepted Amon, however, he was happy to pause and greet his packmate. "Amon," he called out to the older wolf, who was shuffling through the show ahead of him. Perhaps he would be willing to accompany him to the outskirts. "How are you?" Elwood asked once he was closer, hoping that he wasn't interrupting anything.