Firefly Glen so shave your face with some mace in the dark

He did not look unpleasant, by any stretch of the word. 

The stranger was handsome and comely, and her ears cupped as his voice was carried to her by the autumn wind. He did not appear to mind her company, though there was little on him to read but for that quirk playing at the edges of his lips. If she were any ordinary woman, or perhaps younger, all of this combined would have disarmed her quite effectively. 

Hydra reminded herself of the real threat that existed in the Wilds. That not so long ago lurked in the Wilderness, too. Morning, she drawled in turn, reveling in the pleasantly chilly crispness of the hour. Summer had been whisked away by the month-long deluge of August. It smelled like it might rain, in some odd hours... but for now, they were safe from it. The earth still carried the burden of the endless rainfall, her paws sinking into it. She was careful to keep moving, not desiring to be mired down by it as she drew nearer, hoping to catch his scent should he permit it. For the timebeing, there was no indication of her intent—and no sign of malevolence. 

That could change as quickly as a second came and went, though, should his scent reveal to her any contact with those that she considered enemy. Though she was in good enough humor, Hydra had determined that should they show hide or hair in her domain they would be dealt with thusly. If no one else could teach that lot that actions had consequences, she certainly would.