Ghost Lion Crag Just a groove.

Just like last time, it wasn't Hydra who appeared, but a strange and masculine figure. Unlike last time, he did not look like the mountain's queen, nor did Towhee find him in the least alluring. She turned slightly to center her gaze on the approaching stranger, her orange eyes narrowing slightly as the fur along her back prickled warily. She tipped her snout lightly to sniff the air, yet there was nothing telling about his scent, other than what her eyes already told her: he was young, healthy, strong.

Idly, the mercenary wondered why her calls for her sister always drew strange men out of the woodwork (or stonework, in this case). Were her calls not as clear as she hoped? That was entirely possible, given she couldn't hear them. Towhee huffed a breath, wondering if the black monarch would eventually appear. In the meantime, she couldn't exactly ignore the unfamiliar wolf lurking nearby.

Actually, maybe she could consult him on the matter. "When I howled just now, I was intending to call for someone by the name of Hydra. But I can't hear," Towhee said in lieu of a proper greeting. "Am I actually saying something like, 'strange dudes I don't know, come hither'?" She gave him a pointed look.