Fox's Glade i was born a fighter;

brisbane drinks until his thirst is sated, despite the ❛oh❜ of surprise that left the other upon the crossings of their paths. in truth, that was the second time that brisbane'd been utterly unaware that there was another presence within his general vicinity until their paths intersected and he tries not to think that it is an alarming trend. one day, he was going to be caught unawares and he was going to pay for it. it seemed a bit strange: an experienced warrior being so unobservant to the going-on's around him but he was becoming very good on focusing his mind on a singular topic: his survival. that meant three things: food, water, shelter. everything else was secondary on his personal 'tiers of concern'.

his attention drawn, the coywolf's gaze takes in the stranger as his head lifts from the water and turns to face the other. lanky, lean, reddish-brown pelage with greying-brown markings, with white accents on his face. brisbane waits a bit to see if the other male intended to say anything more but when the silence ticks by and the stranger looks back to the water brisbane deigns to break the silence with, you lookin' for somethin', mate?