Ravensblood Forest upon the heights

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He moved through the forest at a steady pace.  He did not believe in omens (or so he told himself) but he did believe in his gut.  In simplest terms, the outrider did not like the way the forest made him feel.  He prickled at every noise and the woman's arrival was no different.

He turned towards her sharply, small rounded ears swiveled towards her as he took in three short, shallow breaths to assess this stranger.  She was pack claimed, he could tell, but she was not of the plateau he had just passed.  His fur flattens.  Hail, he rumbles softly, outrider.  A bold assumption, but one he percieved to be accurate.