He might have responded in kind had he been capable of hearing the stranger's greeting but such was not Yoska's life. Indeed, he only becomes aware of the stranger when his pale for works its way into Yoska's peripheral vision; at first, Yoska allows him to continue as such, uncertain as to the man's intentions. There is something different about him, after all, which is to say that he does not move like the others Yoska knows. Perhaps it is the man's curiosity that creates a weariness within Yoska, unaccustomed to others being so honestly
curious. It makes him slow, though there nothing confrontational about his posture; if anything, he lowers somewhat, passably submissive as the other changes his path and approaches.

Yoska pauses then, straightening ever so slightly as his own tail seeks to mirror the stranger's with slow, controlled waves. His ears stiffen though they are dead to the world,
his eyes never quite meeting the others as he reaches out with his own nose to investigate the oddity that is this stranger. To be approached in such a manner...ah, he has not experienced such a thing before! It is wordless, natural,
strangely comforting without the need to read lips and speak. It seeks to bring a grin to his lips but he refrains, holding back somewhat as he realizes just how bizarre the stranger's scent truly is - forests! Lakes and rivers! Flowers and stones that Yoska has never met. This is surely no mere stranger but rather, a newcomer.

As if spurred by such a thought,
Yoska sinks into a playful bow with a jerky suddenness; his tail hangs overhead waving as he pats the ground with his paws. It is both a summon to play and yet, a plea for the newcomer to understand that he means no harm.