Stone Circle And with soft deceitful wiles

Head low and eyes keen on a figure approaching, Kavos remained incontestably still. He didn't share in the same kind of recognition she had for him. For her it was instant, while his dwindled back to an idea long forgotten -- a concept of family he no longer considered relevant to his survival. The sight of her nibbled away at him though, tickling and stirring, trying to tease from him an emotion he didn't know he had. The wolf swallowed, his expression creasing more and more in thoughtful uncertainty the longer he dared to hold her with his gaze.

At his distance it was impossible to determine what it was she'd uttered on her breath, but his ears pricked with the attempt anyway. It was in this moment that he noticed the dark she-wolf come between them, marking a sort of halfway point between himself and the packwolf troubling his memories. Kavos was briefly distracted, eyeing this latest arrival with his typical impassivity. She was alight in some places, as if dusted with snow, and in the visual distraction of her binary color-tones, he heard her question him.

Where are you headed Sir?

Sir? This wasn't a word Kavos knew, and though he didn't understand entirely what she wanted of him, her posturing was clear enough to the uncultured vagrant. He kept his tail loose at his ankles, diverting his eyes respectfully -- or rather, returning them curiously to the green-eyed flash from the past -- behind her. "Looking," he answered finally, peering steadily at Banner and remaining terribly unaware that this was not enough of an explanation for someone who did not know him. Even as a child he hadn't been much of a talker; it was a wonder he wasn't completely mute by this time.