nothing ventured, nothing gained

Sybil had trouble surmising the ages of the wolves she had met so far, varying so wildly in size
and proportion as they did, but she knew that this one was the oldest she had encountered so
far. Which wasn't saying much, mind you. She supposed the older wolves had better things to
do rather than wander around far from home. She noticed the similarities between their coats,
both thick and pale, though hers had a subtle curl to it that his didn't. They were both built to
withstand cold, though with how wet his was it probably wasn't much insulation.

This meeting hadn't been planned it seemed, though Sybil was still ready to run if she needed
to. His gaze drifted skyward for a time, but returned to her again as he addressed her directly.
He was direct, but not oblivious of himself, and not hostile either. He seemed tired. "No."
She said, unbothered by this line of questioning regardless of his later addendum. There was
no harm in it, even if intended that way. The girl had no home to return to at the moment.

"No tribes that I know of up here, there's quite a few packs settled around the mountain to
the south though." She offered, head flicking towards where Fenrir's Maw would be on the
horizon. She only had the names of two of them so far.

"Have you just arrived here?" She queried, familiar with the line of questioning. Perhaps
she and him had more in common than their coats.

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