His life was but a magic act and he was a man of the Prestige. He would always hold the finesse and grace of a skilled hunter while pressing wolves with the fierce and cunning skills that a fighter used to slay his foes. The fact was Angier thought he was perfect and nothing could be better than him. His ego was his hamartia as he would go to extreme lengths in order to prove he was the better brother. He could pull of the best trick of them all: pretending to be someone he wasn’t. He had been pretending to be someone other than Angier Turn since his exile. His exile had wounded his ego and his soul that he almost gave up. It had been four or five words his sister whispered during his leave that made him more confident in himself. Angier, it wasn’t your fault. The words had been an anvil that had been lifted from his chest and his mind. His sister didn’t hate him.

His sister had meant the world to him and he had constantly been battling for her affections and friendship and love with his brother. Of course, he did not like her in an incestuous way but she was the closest thing he had to a friend. The bane, the odd man out, in the Turn family, needed a bit of friendship in his life. He wasn’t a Turn; he wasn’t a Pledge. He was the Prestige. He pondered these thoughts as he walked through the snow laden forest that his ventures had brought him to. His fur was covered with bits of white. Snow covered his pelt up to the top of his head as the storm raged around him. The winter had been a fierce one and he was looking for a reprieve.
"Abracadabra" - My Secrets

In the midst of the swirling winds and a multitude of trees sat a dark shape. It might have been a stump, but it stood up to its four legs, shook off a thick layer of frost, and took a few paces to its right. Moments after it sat again, a massive pine branch cracked, the noise almost inaudible in the winds, and fell to the ground to his left, missing the wolf by half a foot.

The stranger didn't seem to be looking for shelter, despite the obvious hazard of standing out in the open during such a strong flurry. He just sat there, looking up towards the sky as a fresh coat of snow began to grow again on his lanky form. Every few seconds, he'd look towards the ground to clear his eyes, shaking his head and blinking.

On one such digression from the stormwatching, his colorless eyes fell upon someone else some distance away, wandering in the woods. A little strange, he thought, wondering briefly if this other fellow needed help or directions. Most people out in storms like this were lost and weren't just admiring the power and beauty of the storm or looking for the voice of the gods in the winds. Besides, he hadn't seen much of anyone since he'd followed the storm to this seeming kojot-less land.

He raised his nose in the rushing cold and released a long, wavering howl, a modulating crescendo that rose through the noise of the winds without being in conflict with it. "Hello, my friend!"

A voice flooded the sound barrier as Angier wandered about in a fierce storm. He turned to face the voice to see a figure off in the distance. There was a soft and joker-like grin on his face as he fought the wind to approach the other man. After a fairly decent amount of time given the weather he came nearly face to face with the black and light grey figure before he could extend his greetings like he always did. "Hello there sir. My name is Angier. I'm glad to see I'm not the only one who enjoys feistier weather." His greeting was casual as he looked about for a place without the wind that they could talk. Angier always enjoyed talking to new wolves because he could draw new secrets from them and learn a new trick or two. Perhaps this man could help him with his master trick.

The light brown man did his best to study the other brute with the wind against his face. "Could we find a place a bit more... peaceful... to talk?" He asked the man before heading off towards a nearby cave, hoping the other man would not mind the short distance. Angier did not do the best in social conversations in the harsh northern weather that he had been presented with.
"Abracadabra" - My Secrets

The wolf frowned openly at the cave. It was more a reflex than a reflection of his actual feelings, as after his conscious mind received the suggestion, it seemed like a good one, at least if conversation were to continue. Perhaps this wolf could give him some more information about this strange land: good hunting spots, the latest gossip, the places where polar bears and other hazards made their habitation... that sort of thing.

He trotted stiffly after the brown fellow, his head and tail high, his face now blank. He was from a very formal place and that cautious formality carried into his interactions with even the friendliest of strangers. It didn't seem proper to smile in reciprocation quite yet. Then again, the customs in this land might make it seem rude, he thought to himself, to greet someone with mere calm assertiveness.

Once in the cave, he shook himself off. Without the swirling wind to impede visibility or scent, it'd be apparent that the entity was a female, despite speaking and carrying itself like a male.

After some thought, the grey one decided it would be best to try and mirror the other one's friendliness. He sat, unable to rid himself completely of all of his inborn stiffness, but began wagging his tail and looking around the cave almost casually. "This makes much better place for the conversatings, comrade. I see much clearer here. With that color, I thought you might be kojot at first. Ha ha ha..."