She was surprised when he moved to his haunches, sitting as though they were old friends catching up after years apart, only they weren't. Viewing his display of weakness more along the lines of condescension, and not an invitation to join him, the woman remained steady on all fours. She didn't plan on staying long, though it would seem that he had other ideas. "I have." Conceding that little bit of truth, Celandine figured, would get her farther than lying. He'd know if she did. Her scent was thick among the willows, and if he was any sort of subordinate, he had taken note of it days ago. "I'm looking for someone." The man wouldn't have seen Maeve, she knew. Her old pack mates did not pass the Ridge on their way to wherever it was that they went. Greer would have told her.

Still, she tried to dance around the subject, unwilling to offer up a name lest she needed to. The wheezy stranger was dangerous, and she could hardly expect the soon-to-be yearling to know how to handle him. It wasn't like the wolves of Silent Moon were jumping at the chance to take over her training. "She'd be near an adult now, and various shades of grey." The Argyris waited to see if any flicker of recognition passed over his features before continuing. "Green eyes. Likely with an older male—Erebos would be his name." Her distaste evident when his name passed over her soft peachy tongue.

The stranger offered his raspy condolences, dripping with what she could only assume was feigned sincerity. She'd used the same sweet tongue a time or two, playing on other people's emotions like she cared about their minuscule problems. It all made for a very touching moment, but the Argyris knew the lie. Mere minutes ago the man had hunted her down like an animal, trailing her until she grew too tired to continue. She wouldn't play into his paws like some dove searching for a perch to nest. Still, she made no motion to acknowledge the fact that she knew his little trick, instead offering up a nod in thanks. 

Celandine was not disappointed by his lack of knowledge, as she never truly expected him to have information on Maeve's whereabouts, and truth be told, she had grown tired of asking. "On the mountain." Her head moved towards it, as if he could look upon the heights through the blossoming trees. Disclosing that little bit of information wouldn't matter anymore. They weren't coming back, so if he chose to investigate the old territory himself, all he'd find would be the vacant den's, rotted caches, and the ruins of her former life. No. She couldn't do that again. She wouldn't. She was still Celandine Argyris, heir to the throne of somewhere. 

"Well it's truly been a pleasure." The accent on truly suggested it had been anything but. "I'm sure you've got someone else to chase?" She allowed the smile to grace her lips fully that time.

As if a coin had flipped, the man was back-the same that had chased her-the predator. All pearly teeth, and intimidating eyes peering out from the sooty black that adorned them. The rush of danger that swept over her skin, both hot and cold at the same time was thrilling. Once again, she held her stance, unwilling to shy away from the sudden show. It was likely a warning, but one that held no real significance. She was leaving the forest anyway. Still betting that he wouldn't change his mind, she let her eyes flash over his form once more. Celandine would remember him, for better or worse.

His words were meant to taunt, to intimidate her as if she were a cub, and he was telling some ghost story. Still, she would not provoke him further. Well, much further. The former heiress couldn't just let him get away with it unchallenged. "Maybe next time," She said, her lithe form turning away as a pink tongue rolled over his dark lips. "I'll be the one chasing you." And with that, she was off. Her alabaster fur kissing the breeze as pale paws gripped at the Earth. There was no sense in provoking him further, lest he decide to leave her with a little something to remember him by. The woman was certainly not fond of gifts.