Sleeping Dragon witch hunter

It didn’t take long before the inky figure of another wolf drew closer to the borders. A female with sharp eyes and an expression that would have curdled milk. The ochre-tinged male allowed his dark lips to curl ever so slightly as she closed the small amount of distance, and bobbed his head towards the earth. Gluskap was a bit off color but he did not entirely disfavor the common ceremony of approaching claimed land as a loner. He knew that he had no place there and his dark-furred companion held all of the power. But he was still uncouth and a wicked trickster. His sharp yellow eyes darted upwards for a heartbeat and then settled in the empty space above her head, avoiding direct contact.
 
“Are you accepting wolves into your pack?” he inquired with a slight tilt of his head. No need for formalities when all he really wanted to know was if he could seek shelter there and find rank within her brood. Gluska knew himself well enough to appreciate his ability to embrace his surroundings and fasten himself to them. He was coy, yes, and even brash at times… but he was not stupid.