Blackfoot Forest threats and honey

the egde of his vision snags on a flash of white mere seconds before the greeting reaches him. his posture straightens, head rising, though not in a display of dominance. nothing of the kind is necessary from what he can tell, besides—the man is ultimately not a fighter despite the initial frigidity of his nature...and it shows. 

greetings, he says in return. a moment of silence settles between them, growing when laurent finds himself at a loss for words. it isn't the first time. do you wander these woods alone? it doesn't matter to him, frankly, but it's the only thing that comes to mind.