Dawnlark Plains I am not throwin' away my shot

The grey man continued on his way, until a somewhat familiar scent made its way to his nostrils. A frown thretened to etch itself to his maw - how could one of them be here? Others did survive, Silvermist wasn't an idiot. Many of those wolves from the groups had to have survived, there was too many for them for almost all of the population to be wiped out. His blue eyes traveled to where the scent came from - Silvermist wasn't sure if he knew that guy, but his smell was certainly familiar. 

"You belonged to one of the clans didn't you?" He called out, approaching quickly.