Firestone Hot Springs lakes formed in the wolf's tracks

"Not good for drinking..." Skwol grunted in agreement.

He committed the male's name to memory, drawing a breath at the same time to nest it with his scent. His eyes followed the line of his snout to flat edge of a plateau and the mountains that rose behind it. He could not know exactly where the pack made its territory based on Aditya's gesture, but he would note the landscape and be aware when travelling in that area, if ever he was inclined to head that way.

"What do you call yourselves?" The white wolf was not one to pry into personal business, though he had no qualms offering a plush ear to listen if someone wanted or needed to share. He was however a scout at heart — the blood of his nomadic ancestors thick in his veins. It was second nature for him to collect information about nearby packs, about the land and the prey that used it, and other such things.