Oh, how deeply he craved companionship. The depth of his loneliness was something that few could empathize with, let alone truly understand. Not since Locus had he mad a creature who seemed at all willing to care for him or even entertain him for long periods of time -- and though he was quite useless in many regards, he was very capable of being a loyal ally and friend. And yet, above the possibility of friendship, he valued his own safety and well-being quite highly. It was rare for him to step into the unknown to acknowledge another, but he had stumbled upon this one and she sounded rather nonthreatening. For the most part, company was not worth sacrificing his inherent safety, and yet he would make a rare exception in this case. Though it seemed his mind had not been entirely made up yet, as his poise was ever guarded and wary as he took a few steps closer.
She noted it was the first time she had seen snow. Her voice was young, he had noticed; her lyrics held a kind of vitality that he no longer possessed, and yet it was untarnished by the typical naivety of yearlings. A curious ear would swivel in her direction, head tilting slightly as thought to hear her more accurately. He was without one sense -- and while the others mostly made up for it, there was always something missing in his world, something that not even his acute sense of smell nor his heightened sense of hearing could ever make up for.
"No," he would answered rather bluntly, his voice empty of any emotion that may give away even an inkling of a liking for this weather. "The snow -- and the cold -- are not for wolves like I." It made hunting nearly impossible, and survival a constant, inescapable struggle. "But what about you, miss?"
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