How it goes

Enrico twisted his way through the trees carefully to avoid getting any of the weeping resin stuck in his pelt. He had learned the hard way that it didn't come out easily, and he had no wish to spend hours carefully grooming and chewing at his fur to rid himself of the uncomfortable clumps it caused again. Still, he needed to pass through them to reach the bay further south if he wanted easy fishing, so he just needed to be more careful and deal with it.

He stopped short as the scent of another wolf hit him, at nearly the same instant as he rounded a tree to come face to face with a yearling wolf grasping a flower. The oozing resin of the tree had masked the scent temporarily.

Enrico stood frozen a moment, only a great deal of self control keeping his hackles from rising in alarm as he tried to decide what to do. The yearling carried a pack scent he didn't recognize, but she also didn't carry the scents of any recognizable man of honor. He could hardly flee now without drawing undue attention, and though he knew better than anyone that young females could be just as dangerous as any male, he judged her unlikely to be a problem at this moment. Besides, it would do no harm and much good for him to acquaint himself with a working knowledge of the packs and society of Ardent, both of which he had been avoiding doing for some time.

"Good... morning," he said to her haltingly in the language that was most common here, speaking slowly in an effort to hide his accent and unfamiliarity with the words.