Stone Circle Won’t stop till I get where you are

A soft sound. Far off.

Greyback turned towards it, his ear straining to hear the small song from the border. Quickly, he heeded it with his own chorus in affirmation. Where the girl's was small, the man's was large and booming as always. It rung outwards, echoing in the dead land that was littered with white, and died on the silent wind.

It didn't take him long to get to the border after that, Greyback strode with purpose as he always did. His large limbs pushing away snow and leaving deep footprints in his wake. Thankfully the wind was light today and worked again him in his favor. It's soft breath blew at his back, cascading the scents of easthollow and himself down to the border where the newcomer would be. There was no doubt in his mind that she would smell him before he saw and smelt her.

He loomed over her like a mountain, his hulking frame the opposite of her own weak and frail one. She was young, far too young to be a yearling or older, and the man raised his face in question. Where were her parents? Why was she alone, and more importantly—who was she? His gaze raked over her as he did with everyone else that came upon his and Valette's company. She was cream, almost white, and nearly blended perfectly into the snow cept for the black band upon her back. It was hard for Greyback to see her clearly with his ageing eyesight.

"What brings you to Easthollow, young one?"