Worn out places, worn out faces

Caught in thoughts and lost in moonlight, he did not catch the scent of the newcomer as he came towards him. Perhaps this was also because of all the Valhalla scents that hung heavy in the air, some fresher than others and some faint and old. The yearling that burst in front of him yelling for him to halt smelt of warmth, milk and family and he immediately knew there was no way this little one was an orphan.

With the arched back and raised hackled Alpine was left the image of an angry house cat. He forced back a chuckle that would have risen unbidden in his throat and wiped emotion of his face for a moment as he looked down at the mini terror before him.
?Pack members only, eh? I hadn?t realised this club was exclusive?
He let a grin play across his face and he continued to take in the little sprout, with unwavering, unblinking eyes as he lithely lowered his body a little closer to the ground.

?You look like a pretty tough warrior here, I bet you scare us loiters off all the time. Tell yah what, I think your gona have to show off those big scary fangs of your as make me go?
He playfully swiped the air before the pups face to punctuate his words, his tail giving an equal flick behind him as he finished forming his crouch and waited for the other to attack him.
Of course, Alpine was only playing but there was no reason to dash the little kids image of himself.