Tormented Tarns and he was the man for the job; a one-man bombsquad

wintersbane offers a lofty shrug of his shoulders. that seems to be the goal of this particular game thus far: giving half-answers or no real answer at all. when wintersbane speaks, it's with the subtle indication that he is, indeed, from a pack nearby. if it didn't concern me i wouldn't have asked. that's not exactly true. information is information. he's gotten knowledge on wolves that he intends to do nothing with but still he has it. y'know. just in case. i could be, wintersbane replies absently. not that he knows what germany is — a pack, maybe?. wintersbane can't help the low rumble of a chuckle that works it's way up his chest and between his lips. well, maybe he wasn't so far off the mark after all. blackfeather woods does have a reputation and although wintersbane has yet to make his first canine kill ...that doesn't mean that he doesn't have it within him to do it. he doesn't doubt that he'd murder without blinking twice if he felt he needed to — and that was a shiver inducing realization about himself. i'm wintersbane. he offers as something of an olive branch as if seeking to assure the stranger that he's not on the prowl for a victim.