Wapun Meadow riddle me this. riddle me that.

@Taylor

Åland had not seen much of these new lands, but he has decided that this place was the most tolerable than the rest. It had its problems; he could do without the disgusting locals and it was much to out in the open for his liking, but it was far less dirty than the rest of the valley. He was still cleaning up the mud that had dried on him from the day before.

Awful, he muttered before pricking through his shoulder with his teeth. Absolutely awful.

It had been a couple of days after the fights. He was sore but healing, thanks to Evien, and the remainder of a poultice sticks to his cheek, the fur there dried into spikes. The smell of rosehips, it comforts him.
The valley opens itself up to him as he walks with slow, easy strides towards the border. The sight of a stranger halts him in his tracks, briefly. He is distinctly unwolf-like, lanky, a head full of long blond hair which he is grooming. Taylor is intrigued— he approaches with a low chuff of a greeting, though wary and distant.

A smell drifts from the man and towards the prince's nose. Pungent and familiar. It was similar to the peasant boy's. Åland cringed when he realized it. He didn't want to be bothered by another one of them again. 

Is there something you need? he asked coolly. He glanced up briefly before returning to his task again. It was clear he wanted to shoo this stranger away as soon as possible.

sorry for the delay man!!!im an idiot

Not like he'd expected a pleasant greeting with open arms, but he hadn't expected an ice-cold bastard like this, either. His eyes narrow, but represses the instinctual frown. The stranger can't stop touching his own hair. Taylor either had no patience for the grooming or the concept of having the luxury to clean oneself regularly was entirely foreign to him.
How about a name? You tread awfully close to my home, sire. He cocks his head, answering the wolfdog's glacial guise with an acidic jab and a tight, closed smile.