eyes are a window / to a storm that's getting close

Though the northern chill carded icy fingers through his pelage, the violet titan was largely unbothered by the occasional brush of frigid air against his skin. Dispassionate lavender gaze drifted across the landscape, taking in the towering rock faces that led into a sheltered valley beyond the Sound itself. An excellent place to utilize, and easily defensible in the event of an assault. Barricade the mouth of the canyon, and not many opponents are suicidal enough to try and hurl themselves from the sheer cliffs on all sides. His musings were interrupted by the rough vocalization of a cleared throat nearby- chiseled cranium snapped to pin a pale gaze upon whoever approached. The amber pelted brute who swaggered up to the borders to greet him was wholly unfamiliar, though the stink of the borders mirrored the undercurrents of his musk well enough to mark him as a member of the pack. The male spoke with a hint of humour in his tone, questioning whether he'd gotten himself lost. Stoic features hardly twitched, though his lip twitched a little into an approximation of amusement at the implication.

The stranger guessed after his lineage, and guessed correctly. The amethyst giant inclined his skull in a wordless nod of affirmation. "Melchior Saxe," he replied, vocals akin to the snap of a tree trunk in the dead of winter. "Am I correct in presuming that others of my name preside over these territories?" the brute questioned, not unkindly, relieving the male of his bottomless stare for a few moments to search the shadows for others. Never too careful on the borders of unfamiliar pack lands. Never too cautious. "I would like to know what manner of domain is held here, if you or your comrades would spare the time." though his tone was carefully measured, there was no malice or disdain in his voice when he returned his sharp stare to the strange male. A large brute, to be certain, and no doubt patrolling the borders with some degree of skill in battle under his belt. A subtle tilt of well sculpted crown, the gilded goliath could not mask the sparkle of curiosity that lingered in his gaze as he searched the male's expression- had his assumptions been correct?