For old times

Levi wasn't a frequent sight around the Col. He wasn't sought out often at all, but most knew to find him amongst the trees in the Mile High woods. He supposed he just hadn't wandered back yet, not before Basilisk called out for him, seemingly-presumably- wanting to talk. He approached, a level of ease to his steps, the old stone cold against his small paw pads.

"Yeah what?" Came his response, not overly friendly but not to what those who knew him to be as anything aggressive, or worth worrying about. His gaze flitted to the bandaging around his brother's leg, from scent alone he could tell that blood had been shed, but not cut so deep it would cause any permanent damage. Probably.