Hideaway Strath I remember hating this

Kynareth had been on Nyra’s trail, following her scent in hopes to speak with the pale woman. Yet as he catches another scent and the sound of Nyra’s stern voice sounding out into the night his ears face forward with hardly contained interest. The grandmaster moves forward diligently, his heavy paws trudging through the deep snow.

Upon arrival he sees a smaller coyote looking creature, perhaps some wolf, and Nyra. He only catches the tail end of her words as he prowls up confidently. Tail curled at his hips with his head level with broad, muscular shoulders, he stops before the two. His hawkish eyes flick to the stranger wolf and his maw curls up into a handsome smile. 

Lifting his head higher, he cocks a circular, cream brow. “What a fine night to have a visitor.” He hums smoothly, his deep voice breaking the stark silence of the winter wonderland that makes up this forest. “Who might you be, darling?” He asks, feeling in a well enough mood to play around with their company.