Swiftcurrent Creek He’s a unicorn with a single horn, he has a cup of tea in the early morn

For the better part of their conversation, Moss couldn't hear them over the crunching of snow beneath her own feet. She knew when she was mentioned, but didn't hasten her pace. She had no intention of interrupting their conversation so that she could take part, but as her ward, Shardik fell under her supervision. 

Their conversation continued even after she'd been spotted, but she could only see the reddish male's expressions. She saw the widening of eyes, the slicking of his ears- she saw his gaze drift over and over again to Shardik's wounds. If Shardik was trying to impress the stranger with tales of his injuries, it'd be unflattering- but she wouldn't jump to that conclusion. He'd been very tight-mouthed about his experiences when he'd been facing the leadership. 

She was called over, and grunted softly, her voice muffled by bird feathers. She did not hasten her pace, but extended her stride so she could cover a bit more distance and close the gap between them without it looking as though she was hurried by the boy's invitation. He called for Akavir as well, and she flicked one ear back. He was often swift to come to a summon. 

Moss came to a halt and abruptly dropped the bird. She set one heavy paw on it, and set her gaze upon the newcomer as the bird's bones crackled beneath her weight. He had a slim jaw, something she thought was indicative of coyote blood; coyotes were cunning and quick. He had striking features- from his odd eyes to his bold markings- things which would never fail to make him distinct amongst others. She inhaled deeply. He smelled faintly of other wolves, but not of packs that she recognized. 

She turned her gaze to Shardik, then, willing him to speak first. And if Atreus spoke up- she would step harder upon the bird she'd killed, and crackle its bones even more.

First impressions were important.