Sleekwing found it most pleasing that his arrival was received so well and kindly by the other wolf. A new acquaintance was already forged between the two wolves, and the soldier hoped their impending familiarity would only grow from there. Further interested in Valerian, Sleekwing adjusted his positioning slightly so that the two sat side by side. For a moment, the two studied one another, a customary habit between two wolves who had only just met. His red eyes were somewhat startling, but the young man had met quite the variety of gazes in his day. Valerian was of a similar hue to himself, though his grays were a bit darker than his own. It was oddly refreshing to come across another wolf colored so simply as he – even if Sleekwing’s markings might set him apart – for it seemed that many of the wolves of Moladion had been donned in exquisite markings of the most unusual varieties.

Appearances aside, the body language of the wolf whose company Sleekwing now shared was also a welcome change. He seemed relaxed, content. It caused Sleekwing to slip into his own state of leisure, simply enjoying the presence of another and the nature that surrounded them. “Just north of here,” he replied, “among the mountains of Spirane.” He looked north, gesturing to the peaks of the mountain range. He could hardly help the smile that creased his lips, for he was quite proud of his heritage and home.

“And you?” he asked. It was a fair enough question, and he felt that they had somehow come to a silent agreement that the conversation henceforth would be of a most amiable nature. Even if the conversation lead nowhere, it would be good for Sleekwing to attain friends beyond the borders of Spirane. It could only strengthen him, and his home.