He watched the landscape carefully, his eyes trained to hone in on any slight movement that was out of the ordinary. He was on the prowl, a hunter seeking prey of a different sort. That is why he stands so high, like a statue so chiseled into a muscular perfection. He was a true example of a leader, with a gaze so assertive it burned through the very soul.

In the distance, he saw the movement of another wolf coming in his general direction. He seemed out of place, and a bit unobservant if he did not see a creature such as Andras towering over the Aplos River lands. He watched with an intendity, absorbing every little detail of the male as he came to drink at the river. He was a lighter colored male, but no Angel. His cracked lips smiled wickedly, seeing as the male was not weak of body. Yet could he be weak of mind? Something he could bring to his land? He needs numbers, warm bodies to fill Iromar to the brim. A foreign wolf was a bit more difficult to bring into the land of Demons, with a code quite strong. Yet some crave the structure, crave following someone strong. Andras was that someone.

"You!" he boomed, his voice laced thick with an oozing authority. He jumped down from his rock, landing with a hard thud, yet completely unphased. He moved in a way most do not, seemingly reckless, but it was controlled and fluid. His tail was high behind him, waving like a flag of dominance behind him. He did not hesitate to move right towards him, with great intent with each step.

He comes up close, not too close, but closer than a normal stranger would get. Permanently, he had a fang glimmering from the rip in his top lip, a constant reminder of the fang that brings death upon those who defy him. It is the single fang that has ended hundreds upon hundreds of lives, from the small to the large. This very fang shimmers in the light, slightly yellowed from his age of 11 winters.

"I haven't seen the likes of you around these parts before. Tell me, what pack do you serve? You don't look like the kind that can...handle living on his own," he said with a growing dark grin, tongue licking once at his ripped lip before it slides back within the cage of his mouth. His nares flare, taking in the scent of the male before him, how his scent does not really mix well with Moladion. A lost puppy perhaps? He doesn't stand completely still, as his breath is naturally a bit heavy to compliment his hefty size. Hackles of blood were raised slightly in a sign of his greatness, a sign that he is not just some nobody here for a chat. He was an alpha, no matter where he feet stepped.