Reaper remained in the western part of the continent for a little bit. He would take back down south whenever he felt like it. He wandered the open land, paws crunching on the dying grass and cold ground. He was heading towards the river. Moloch, his raven, flew over head diligently. Reaper reached the river and bent down for a drink, lapping at the cold water until he had his fill. A new scent entered his nostrils and soon enough, he spotted the newcomer to the region. "Greetings!" He called out to them politely, dipping his head. "A fine day, isn't it?" He sat down on his hind. His breath left a small cloud of precipitation from the cold.

Despite his new status as heir, and his mothers recent lessons, Redrum still found time to go out and explore. At the very least, to scope out new hunting grounds and challenges. So the vermillion wolf was skulking about like usual, golden eyes focused on tracks and the subtle signs of prey – when he was actually taken by surprise upon his approach of the river running through the valley.

Redrum's eyes caught sight of the newcomer at the river's edge before he heard his voice. His initial wariness gave way to curiosity as he approached, his red fur quite the contrast against the yellow hues of the dying grass. He paused a short distance away, watching the stranger sit and regard him.

“Greetings,” The young brute said, his voice rough but not unfriendly. He dipped his head slightly, mimicking the gesture. “Fine… day? Yes-?” The words fell in choppy twitches from his jaw, peeking up at the sky as he tried to surmise the worth of a fine day.

Redrum sat down on his haunches, his breath mingling with the cold air to form small clouds, just like the strangers. He offered a slight smile, though it was more a baring of teeth than a grin. What was it with strangers and sudden conversation?

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