Sequoia Coast an only child of the universe

The girl had headed south, knowing to leave Drageda now felt wrong,  but feeling the itch in her paws that seldom came, and yet compelled her to move, to travel and see. Winter had changed the landscape that she knew only faintly, and it was not long before she had little idea of where, exactly, she was. Panic didn't quite come, for she knew the way back to Drageda; it was as simple as turning around and heading back the way she'd come (right?) and besides, she'd left tracks that ought to be easy to follow back (right?)

Nevertheless, perhaps in an attempt to push past her own doubts, the speckled girl continued south, humming under her breath as she went and scanning the strand and rocks and trees as she passed on her search for something novel.

The wolf stood astride a narrow portion of white sand. It was unclear if the sand had frozen together because of the season or if the tide had merely swept out further than he thought possible, but he could range beyond the normal limit, like the sea had fled from the touch of all things solid. In picking his way across the exposed sand bar the wolf thought, surely, that he would find something to fill the void of his empty gut.

He slunk along with his head downcast, but even in these speculative moments he was a gargantuan thing; the dark sable of his winter coat shrouding a solidly built (if a little thin) skeleton. When nothing could be found the masked miscreant turned towards the rock-hewn coast and headed for the interior. He slowed his pace when a silhouette caught his attention (the movement spurred him to lift his head), and there he beheld a silver-clad stranger on the prowl.

Curious, he chose to pursue, and was not subtle about it.

Sometime shortly after catching sight of the male, it dawned on her that he was following her. The girl quickened her footsteps, unsure of how to proceed, and fairly certain a silent wolf following you could not have good intentions. Her spine was ramrod straight with tension, and it was only after she thought what would Heda do that she made a move, whirling swiftly and facing the stranger, even going as far as to take a step in his direction. Her tail curled up behind her and her ears pressed forward in a display of false courage that ranged into near-hostility,  heart quickening.

Her paws sank into the supple snow as she finally spoke, words a little steadier than she expected and yet still faltering in the slightest. "what do you want?" Surely a display like the one she attempted to put on would put off a wolf with dark intent, or at least have the stranger speak up.

She was not afraid of him - this was not rare, but always compelling. It gave him a thrill to be confronted. When she turned to face him, demand answers of him, he saw what he wanted to see; there was a beautiful young girl who did not even know her own desires, and while she was defensive in her mannerisms, Aquila was practiced in this dance. Given time and education, Aquila believed her defensiveness would abate.

For now he would appeal to her request. It was part of the game.

I am lost, he murmured in his soft baritone. He swayed his tail-tip and bowed his head to match his shoulders so as to disarm her, and then chuffed, you appear to know the way.

She was wary, and yet her fears were put to rest; this male seemed no threat. When he spoke, his voice was a soft baritone that carried no threat, and his tail swung at his hocks amiably, almost. Her own tail deflated, hackles stopped their prickling, and she was quietly glad that this encounter had not ranged into something hostile. 

He was lost, and while she too was, admittedly, unsure of where she stood, it would do poorly to admit that to a stranger. She was quiet a moment, and then, much more civilly, asked, "where are you going?" She knew best the territories near Drageda, though perhaps she could point him in the general direction of his goal. Her head canted in amiable curiosity, though still she was wary, for she had seen little of strangers in her short life.

She answers him with kindness and sympathy rather than teeth. This sends him a strong message - that perhaps his presence isn't entirely unwanted after all - because an absence of no must be a clear indication of yes. He must continue with the lie despite knowing that it is wrong; Aquila is not a malevolent beast which seeks to perpetuate evil, nothing close to that. The game is all in fun -but he has a distaste for dishonesty which seems a touch quixotic.

When he responds it is with a sly smile, and the tone of his voice is playful (but could easily be misconstrued): Where are you going? Again his tail is twitching, his ears turning only to settle in a frontward position to catch her response, and he dares prowl a step closer.

The stranger did not answer, but instead echoed her own question, playfully. He prowls a step closer, and the wariness is back, wondering if he is one of those Blackfeather wolves, playing at being nice before murdering her. But this is a loner (or is it?) and he carries no pack scent; surely she is overreacting (is she?) The wariness has her reply a bit more curtly. "I asked you first." 

She finds it odd that he doesn't pursue his original request for help, instead choosing to ask of her. She almost answers, but the words die on her tongue as she shifts, regarding him carefully.

He reaches towards her even before she begins to talk, his nose desiring her scent as if that will give him something to build a response off of; but then she turns the question upon him again, focused rather than playful, and he tastes her breath fleetingly before withdrawing.

Aquila is unsure if he should be bold with this one or not. She is young but not childish, naive but not trusting enough, beautiful but not quite ready to satisfy what he is after. The game is still afoot, though, and he rather enjoys it.

Hm, the north. Where it is always winter. He does not mean to sound poetic; he has noticed the subtleties of the scents upon the girl's coat however, and hopes to coax something from her. Were you on your way home? He asks softly, casually, but no doubt comes off sounding a little more malevolent despite his attempt to charm.

He draws near, nearer then she'd like, and the girl takes a swift step backwards, hackles prickling as she regards him. She doesn't know what he wants; if it was a fight he desired, certainly he would be acting more aggressive. His answer makes even less sense; if his destination is the place of eternal winter, vague as that is, shouldn't he at least be able to see the choose the correct direction? "north is that way," She gestures with a flick of her muzzle, shifting as he asks another question of her. 

The question feels oddly intrusive, but she answers all the same. "yes. drageda." She includes the name in the vague hope that it might scare away the male should he know of it, and for the first time she is anxious. She doesn't know the fastest way home should it be required, only a general direction. The security the knowledge of her whereabouts would offer her is lacking, and it serves to place her more on edge.