Moonspear fulthark

In the depths of the lush glade, he had watched him from between the ferns. It was not an in depth study by any means; Dirge only saw snippets of him as he traveled along the borderland, and it was that meandering, curious action that had intrigued him.

But it served to be wary these days, this he knew.

The woods had been quiet, perhaps just as quiet as the towering jut of stone that loomed behind him. Hydra had whelped her litter and he had silently taken up more than his share of duty. He wondered not why the wolf was there, but rather found himself appraising him, questioning intent and logical threat.

So when the stranger had gone to roll along a worn patch of ground, he had loosened himself from his distant prowling to approach him. Curiosity was replaced by suspicion—his wonders shifted to ponder how far away @Jarilo may have been, or if @Lyra trailed somewhere in the shade beyond his perception. Perhaps neither, or someone else may have been there, watching.

His jaw set.

His expression darkened at the thunderhead notion that they were somehow vulnerable.

Lowly, he said: "What are you doing?"

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