The land almost seemed familiar around his paws, emerald green eyes locking on the sight of the Lake… had he been here before? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t think he’d been but the only times he’d been this far south were the times surrounding the fall of his birth pack, the murder of his mother… could it be he’d found those lands again? He’d been looking; he just never expected to find them that soon. It’d been so long and yet it seemed like nothing had changed. At least not with the scenery. So much had changed, and he knew that to be fact.

The earthy man kept his course, carefully pressing through the soft and cold snow he had become accustomed to. He didn’t even know where to begin. No, he wasn’t getting his hopes up… not until he could be sure of where he was. There could be hundreds of lakes like the ones he’d grown up near, like the ones he’d passed through on his journey north. Don’t get ahead of yourself. The wise words of his mentor had rung through his head time and time again… he would want him to keep pushing on until he was certain… right?

He took a deep breathe... he could feel it in his bones. He was getting close to whatever remained of Silent Moon Plateau, the territory he'd been born in, spent nearly half his life in...

It'd taken three months of adventure, but he could feel the journey coming to a close.

He was well on his way south, ignoring the sound of the other wolf in the area. If the man avoided him, then he’d do the same to the man; hell, he’d probably ignore Askan’s presence regardless. Wren was use to keeping a small company of wolves, and even then he didn’t manage to disclose very much. He wasn’t the foolish and naïve child he’d been a year ago… far from. His nose twitched as the scent grew closer, emerald eyes turning with his light colored head to look at the man though he said nothing. His ear twitched, head tipping lightly to recognize his presence and confirm that he knew that he was there but there was very little to say.

You lost?

Why would he think that? He exhaled softly before shaking his head in a manner to suggest that his answer was “no”, eyes narrowing a little in a confused manner as his head tipped to the side, curiosity hinting at his features. There were things he wanted to ask, sure, but patience was key and he hadn’t used his voice in so long that he’d practically forgotten what it sounded like… He knew what his thoughts and dreams sounded like, but he was almost certain that if he tried to speak that the man would just be met with a cracking and disheveled tone that made Wren sound weak and broken.

He knew, perhaps this man himself was lost and was just trying to cover up the embarrassment of being lost by assuming that Wren himself was lost? He wasn’t sure, but he did want to find out. He didn’t look like any wolf that Wren had ever met – his fur was a lot darker in most places, not that the man minded the change in appearance. He’d grown up around lighter wolves, the darkest of them being Phineas, Aponi, and Erebos who’d all had grey fur, monochromatic hues… the wolves he’d fallen in with after he’d willingly abandoned his family were mostly white, occasionally russet or earthy like Wren himself.

That was the one thing that perhaps should have bothered him that hadn’t – abandoning family after he’d been raised to think it was everything… they’d all let him down when it counted, and he saw no reason to support them in return. There had been no pity, perhaps a little mourning over his mother, but nothing for his father or his sister… nothing at all.

Was it a little disrespectful to not speak? Apparently… but Wren was equally disrespectful to everyone he didn’t talk to and the fact that this man was taking it so seriously almost shocked him. Come on, it wasn’t like he’d never had anyone react in that manner before, wounded egos or some shit that Wren wasn’t prepared to deal with that day. What would Askan have done if he was physically incapable of speaking to other wolves? He’d probably view it a different way, and while Wren could speak to wolves, Askan didn’t know that, he only assumed that he was capable.

The wolf was quick to judge Wren for it, and Wren honestly couldn’t care less. He didn’t have to explain himself to anyone or anything. He wasn’t required to speak to someone and if they were so entitled as to think that he needed to stroke their ego even more, then they could piss off. He visibly tensed defensively, though he still remained silent, when the man started his outrage, demanding he move on. That was what Wren had been trying to do before his man so quickly interrupted his venture south.

He wanted to scream out at him, but he reigned it in and stored it all inside. He’d learned a long time ago that words never got a wolf anywhere… that he needed to show his actions rather than his words. His confusion intensified his tail wagging softly as he looked around. Askan had come to talk to him, and if he thought Wren should be grateful for his presence, then he had another thing coming. It was more rude than anything and he deserved no proper de rigueur that he might have gotten had he not reacted so brashly. Instead, Wren politely looked at him with that confused expression in his eyes, not staring or meeting his eye because he’d been raised to believe that to be rude and that was one thing Wren liked to think he wasn’t.

His paw brushed slightly through the snow to the side as if going to take a step, wondering if the pack wolf had anything to say to him... any other way to accuse and slander Whisper further.

Wren might have not been baffled by the behavior of the other wolf… if it hadn’t been for the fact that Askan had been the one to seek out and start an interaction with Wren, rather than Wren putting himself in this situation for no good reason. He didn’t budge, didn’t even flinch, when Askan scowled and snapped his teeth, the aggression level growing tenfold from before, at least in Wren’s mind. Wren had noticed the second wolf in the area, unlike his uptight companion it seemed. Again there were no words, but a couple steps backwards. He made it clear that he wasn’t looking for a fight, trying to find a way to show the man that he wasn’t intentionally doing this… he was, but that was beside the point.

The pack wolf was miffed that he was being “ignored”, but if that were the case, Wren would have just walked away and continued on his journey. He gulped but it was hard going down. Perhaps if his mutism had been a physical thing like a missing tongue or scars on his throat, then he could show it… but it’d been completely mental, and psychological… he wasn’t sure that he knew how to truly speak anymore. Sure, he knew words, but he didn’t know how to say them.

He just wanted an answer to the question but Wren couldn’t provide it, less from stubbornness and more from the fact that the situation was tense and putting pressure on him to speak was the way to get him to shut down completely. Not shut down shut down, but more of his brain refusing to comply with his demands for movement of mouth. His eyes softened a little, trying to find some way to convey it all through body language – it’d always been one of those difficult things to tell wolves without using words… the fact that he couldn’t speak…

His fur remained flat against his back, his tail lowered, a slight wave to try and show that he wasn’t aggressive or outright disrespectful even though Askan thought he was… anything to diffuse the situation, even if he thought that Askan was a royal prick who needed to be put in his place… as a loner he couldn’t afford it. He didn’t have a pack to rely on if he could get injured and for Christ’s sake he just wanted to visit his mother’s grave!