Deepwood Weald so blissful i press on

"Didn't mean to disturb you," Phocion remarked, stepping out from the brush. He cast a rueful look at himself. "But you would have seen me anyway--I am not the most inconspicuous of wolves, especially in the southern climate." He sighed, chuckling a little, before fixing his gaze back on the other again.

"If you're hunting, mind if I join you?" he asked, keeping his body language relaxed and neutral. "Two wolves are always better than one, especially when there's more mouths to feed." He caught the faint smell of others on the man's pelt--though how many others, he couldn't say. He hadn't seen this stranger around before, though he did not stray this far, these days, from Silvertip Mountain. He might just be passing through.