Trust. Borden’s furrowed brow continued to crease his forehead. ”I may be young, and a loner, but – trust me – I’ve heard about the packs,” she informed him. Oh. The mountain wolf imagined the petite Makita encountering a Swift River wolf, wondering how that went or how she went about learning of his pack. As much as he knew, “little birds” don’t go about telling and spreading information of the wolves of Relic Lore. Well, okay, maybe, but he couldn’t help but wonder how this youth could possibly know of both packs. Her tongue-in-cheek answer had caught him off-guard; and she just slightly reminded him of how he was when he had been a pup.
Information, to the gent, was often hard to come by; usually, he had to travel for miles around just to get the time of day, even much farther to get the name of a place. He listened as she told him how her winter had been interesting and, of course, hard. Another nod made him dip his muzzle to acknowledge her reply. He knew exactly how that was… wandering about, both aimlessly and purposefully, unsure of when or where the next meal or watering hole would happen to come by.
Easing himself into a more relaxed position – curving his body slightly to sprawl out on his side – he quietly smiled, taking in the views of the creek and listening to the water as it rushed past. The blackened tip of his tail flicked idly due to his lack of skill in small talk. Truth be told, he hadn’t had much of a chance to get away from his duties, to socialize or meet anyone new until today.