He is anything but passive. Proud and fit, the burned wolf strolls through the terra, wearing the wounds that mar his body with pride, for he is a survivor. He has tasted the flames intimately, and come out alive. Perhaps, with time, the fur would grow back on his brutally burned leg and hip, but then again, perhaps not. He knew not, nor did he worry about it now for old wounds were old wounds and now, though he walks with a limp that is distinct in its gait, for his back leg aches with the after-burn of scarred muscle that has re-knitted itself improperly, he is proud. He is a creature that is MADE of fire now, as he always has been.  With an acrid gaze of acid, he lifts his battle-scarred maw to the sky and squints, inhaling deeply the scent of the wind and the tasting the breath of his distant prey with a predator's hunger rising deep in his gut.

And so he will push onward, and he begins to walk. He is, by no means, a tall man. No, he is stout and strong and study, lacking the grace and finesse of many others in his field. He is rough around the edges, a boulder that has been weathered by the storm into a jagged crown, rather than a stone polished by a river. He is not a kind man, nor is he a very smart one. But he is good at hitting things, and that is what is most important.

The scent of a stranger immediately piqued Kai's interest. Though largely an independent creature, lately he'd been craving companionship beyond what he could provide himself. Perhaps he wasn't quite as solitary as he had once led himself to believe - or perhaps he'd simply had poor luck in finding things to entertain himself with as of late. Either way, company of any sort was quite a compelling thing these days, so when the scent of a stranger touched his nose he redirected himself toward it quite easily. He'd wandered a bit farther south than he'd expected, though he often let his paws decide where he went rather than analyzing it too deeply, so it wasn't much of a surprise to him where he'd ended up. As he rounds the top of one of the knolls, chest heaving from the small climb, he spots the figure in the near distance. From so far away it is hard to tell much about him, though he seems about the same age as himself, and Kai tips his head upward to let loose a friendly bark of greeting. His own form moves with power, strong muscles rippling beneath his thick coat as he moves lazily to close the distance that lies between them. The grin he wears is an easy one, one that comes from within rather than an expression forced for those on the outside, and there is little sign of care as he veers toward Helios. "Afternoon, muukalainen," he calls out, his voice friendly enough. "What brings you to these hills? Hoping to take down one of these buffalo on your own too?" Kai's voice is full of jest, his question far from serious, and his grin grows slightly at the sound of his own words.