As expected- it did not take them long. She can feel them before she can see, hear, or even scent them. Call it a sixth sense, if you will, but the silver phantom had always had a way of simply.. knowing things without knowing them. Call it a shamanistic ability, or call it the fatal disease that had touched her being and left her breathing. That which had left her bright sterling silver gaze marred with the burnt sienna that encased it. It was a reminder to her, always, the oddity that was her gaze if ever she caught her reflection. But Miya had never been a vain wolf- her concerns were of survival and her next meal, not how her fur looked or felt. But it does not take the stranger long to come into view. He is pale, as she is, but lacks the grey and silver hue that she holds. His eyes are a pale indifference, the light ice blue almost unnerving in a way. But she is not one to become anxious so easy. Her own bright gaze is returning his stare in kind, locked on his features and not budging any. She could tell he wore a stoic mask, but she did not question or pester. Instead, she waited for him to speak, if he would, and for her moment to reply in kind.

The stranger- the pack-wolf, for that was what he was, did not remain standing but mimiced her in her recline, seating himself across from her. For this reason, she allowed herself to relax just a tad more- but if he were to decide to turn hostile, she would have the needed moments to either put distance between them, or launch toward his throat. He did not seem like the hostile sort, and this was further heightened when he seemed to concentrate upon her, his nostrils twitching with exertion- and then the barest glimmer of reccognition is in his gaze. This has Miya tilting her silver marred skull ever so slightly to the left, her natural born curiosity bubbling to the surface so easily as it had done for seldom few. While she knew how to be sociable- Miya did not often do this by choice. There were simply some moments where you met another and it came easy- or you met another and it came hard and unkind. It merely depended. But with this male- something about him made her feel relaxed. Familiar, in a way, but not in the way of ever knowing him before. Perhaps it was comfort she was currently feeling, but she did not have it in her to figure it out.

The last time she had devled further into her thoughts about another- he had vanished from her life without a trace, leaving nothing but a scarred reminder of why she did not often place herself with others. That was not to happen again. When he spoke, her ears perked forward slightly to better catch his words- but instead of introducing himself or asking what she wanted, his words are so much different. You know these lands, don't you? That recognition he had let slip before- perhaps it was as it seemed afterall. He was a blunt stranger, and this was something Miya could appreciate. She had no filter when it was that she spoke, and feared nothing in what she could and would say to all. But all she gave was a simple nod of her head, for he was speaking again and she was listening intently. How long has it been for you? Such an odd question indeed- just how long had it been? Years. Years and years. Glancing down for a moment at the soil between them, her exotic silver and sienna accented gaze then find his own icey stare and linger there for but a moment. She is selective in her words, and this encounter is no exception.

'Do you mean to ask; how long has it been since I first found Munashii - or how long has it been since I left only to return once more?' There are many different questions, but these are the ones she gives him. And there is no sarcasm in her voice. No mocking tones or any offense or anything. There is simply and an almost innocent curiosity to her voice, something that had always remained melodic and peaceful throughout the years. It was one thing she never seemed to lose, just as her eyes never lost their accent. Her coat had changed over the years, as had her body with the seasons and abbundance of prey. But there were two things that had not changed, and she didn't know if they ever would. She wanted to know his name, and though she told herself she would not delve- she found her resolve slipping. 'Tell me- what is your name?' Her gaze was locked on his, molten silver holding his frozen blue, curious to if he would look away or show anything at all across his features. Anything at all.

'Talks like this'