Bacchus was made for the snow, and he had no problem navigating it deep or shallow. Today he'd find himself loping back to the wash, almost curious if his friend from so many days before might still be around. Though he had his doubts considering the nomad didn't seem to have a place he returned every night. Still, exploring the place on his own would surely be much different than with his older companion. Long legs would carry the tall boy easy over the silver stained marble, his eyes catching the glimpse of the glitter as he passed by. Oddly he'd find the scent of yet another wolf here, very much different from the last scent. Finding himself just as curious Bacchus would make a slow approach, finding his eyes would lay upon a young girl. Surely not too much older than himself, he would simply observe from the other side of the area. She was so different from the wolves in his pack, the orange markings were flashy. Usually he was aware of his manners, but as he watched her he would stare with little restraint.
