The heat was growing noticeable, seeping underneath not-quite-shed fur and bringing already heated wolves to a boil. Now this was always an antsy season, no one knew that better than Drestig, though this year his situation was quite a lot different from the last couple. As any mature male, he felt the effects in his own body, and even more, he scented them on his travelling partner. This of course brought forth a whole host of speculations, enough to add a headache to the host of irritations already induced by the weather. Hot and irritable, he'd sought out the water to soothe at least some of his woes, stepping into the shallows at the springs' edge to cool his paws. It was a small comfort, but at least for now it helped get his mind on other things.

Mainly the dark figure that soon appeared a ways further down the bank, lowering his head to drink. Sleek, black fur covered a large, burly frame, creating a rather unforgettable silhouette. Drestig tilted his head, lips pursed for a moment in thought. Then, slowly starting to wade through the low water, he called out: "Gent?" Wasn't it just his luck to run into the young man again? Though it did fit well with the direction of his pack; If I'm not wrong.

Word count: 220

"Speech" Thoughts

Drestig kept his approach slow, casual, leaving plenty of time and room for the other to survey him. His head hung low, nose only inches above the water, as if he might stop to have a drink himself, though for now he was simply enjoying the slightly cooler air at the surface. The prospect of talking to the @Gent again was surprisingly welcome, despite the bumps doing their first meeting, the graying chap had not found him entirely unpleasant, and perhaps they'd do better without that hot head fire-pelt as a third party.

But as he came closer, Drestig was surprised to discover that this was not the young leader at all, but another wolf of similar looks. This caused the elder man to pause, head lifting slightly as the stranger raised his own, regarding him neutrally. The resemblance was striking, the pelt might have a slightly different sheen, the eyes a deeper hue, but the build was similar, and while this male looked like he could be a bit older, it wasn't by much. As he came a little closer, stepping out into the water, Drestig offered a small, crocked smile, giving a sheepish shrug of his shoulders. "My mistake, apologies," He said slickly, nodding his head faintly as a gesture of excuse.

The introduction was followed with another nod, and his own: "Drestig." While he focused on this Miccah's scent, noting that, though it was indeed different from Gent's, it bore the distinct markers of pack. And, he realized, brows lifting, not an unfamiliar pack either. "The Woodlands," He drawled, the lightness of surprise in his voice. Those thicket wolves sure did get around; Hopefully he didn't bring FIRE-PELT @Ash! The silvered man suppressed an urge to look around for the brute, instead lifting his ember gaze to meet the larger male's sapphire's. It was interesting to come across a Woodlander up here, on what would likely be closer to Gent's turf, as he'd discerned quite a bit of tension between the two groups in their meeting in the Fields. Smiling to himself, Drestig hid his churning thoughts, settling for a simple statement to start out: "A ways from home, aren't you?"

Word count: 364

"Speech" Thoughts

Not much of a talker it seemed, this dark Woodlander, and his neutral answer reminded Drestig annoyingly of his encounter in the Fields. He might have only heard of his similarity to Gent, but it seemed they had more in common than just looks; I bet they'd make great friends! The graying man snickered to himself, watching this Miccah with a glint in his ember eyes. Reticent with information and quick with questions, just a hint of distrust in that steely blue gaze; He must feel quite at home with @Ash! But Drestig didn't let himself get agitated, not yet at least. Instead he looked over the dark brute, lifting a brow ever so slightly, a lazy smile settling on his face. "That depends on your perspective, I suppose," He answered slickly; Two can play at this game!

Of course, conversation would hardly get anywhere if they both maintained the role of tight-lipped. So Drestig gave his head a casual roll, taking the few steps onto the bank, to be free of the water. He took his time, moving slowly and shaking his paws dry one at a time, all the while keeping his eyes on what he was doing, rather than the other wolf. When finally he did turn back to Miccah, standing squarely on the shore, the tip of his tail oscillating slowly at his hocks, his expression was unmoved, like he'd never looked away. Speaking in drawling tone, like he was more musing to himself than anything else, he disclosed: "I'm sort of in between homes at the moment." Then he cocked a brow at the other, looking at him expectantly; Alright, your turn.

Word count: 277

"Speech" Thoughts