Deepwood Weald if we shine

Hm. He might've received an answer, but it didn't feel like it cleared much up for him. Antares offered back a small nod in return, unable to help the last lingering look he had for the younger (evidently sensitive one) of the pair. He was, however, swiftly beginning to decide that this was not going to be his problem for long; pack mates had come to gather the youth, it seemed, judging by the voice a flicking ear caught in the distance. The search party was closing in.

Yeah. There could be wolfeaters about, even. Or worse, he supplied, tipping his nose upwards a notch. He knew his mother had enemies out in these distant wilds, and others had their stories too. Other predators were just the very beginning and as far as he was concerned, all of these wolves were pretty young. But, anyway, that was as much detail as his warning was going to go. He would remember the packscent on these strangers, though, despite the odd encounter on his end--Antares was keen to see it end, though, before more spotty dudes with foul-mouths showed up to outnumber him. I will be on my way, then, he said, this time aiming the words for the older mottled boy before he turned on a heel, pivoted, and prepared to press onward to cover some more ground in the woods unless they had more for him (which he hoped not).