He watched the storm ahead of they with a mix of weariness and nostalgia, storms were a little more than common in his old home and the feeling of watching one brought back memories that had long since buried in the back of his mind. As long as they didn't get dumped upon by cold rain he's bound to remain in this better mood.
It wasn't that he disliked wolves it was opposite he liked them a lot, however it could be hard to find others to talk to; let alone friendly others to talk to. And as much as he liked other wolves he wasn't often willing to risk himself for a simple conversation like today. Since the other had returned the friendly approach he saw no problem with continuing talking to him. Talking to others could make a day much, much brighter; and if the day is already enjoyable well that just makes it more so. In his loner life style he doesn't often get to sit and have a nice conversation. He had always preferred the warmth, but could enjoy days like these too.
Though they both were sharing opinions, there wasn't much difference between both of theirs. Voltaire nodded at his statement and then he nodded silently in agreement at the older male’s words, he spoke the truth as boy knew all too well. The boy had experienced many storms, some more dangerous than others. The wind itself during some could topple trees; he had even seen the flashes of light that could be seen among the clouds, rain down and scorch the earth itself black. His father had told him a story, when he was younger, of his own witnessing of what happened to an unfortunate wolf that happened to be on the wrong side of such flashes. He introduced himself after his company had done same before him. Nanuk soon found himself smiling at his kind company.
They both watch the storm for a while before out of the corner of his eye; the boy sees Voltaire turn to him. "I’ve been here for quite a few years, but I’m originally from far west." He said with a nod of his head in the general direction of which he spoke. Typically he is unconcerned with sharing his past; after all he had nothing to hide, at least not purposely. "And what of you, what's your story; that is if you don't mind me asking." Even if he was in a pack everyone had a story and from these stories come the lessons.