She could feel him long before she could see him. She could feel his anger in the air between moments before his arrival, and the way it seemed to linger for a breath between them, though for what reason she knew not. When it is that he finally appears before her, his face is a stranger to her; however, much like her uncle and cousin, there is a familiarity in his face that speaks to her, communicating with her very soul. His eyes, they remind her of her mother. His coat pattern, it reminds her of her sister. His size reminds her of herself, though even as she continues to observe him, she still does not know him. However, it would seem that by chance he happens to know her, his demeanor in his approach telling her something. He comes close but he stops short and suddenly, almost as if he's at a sudden loss, and almost as if he wants to bolt. This other wolf is practically bursting fro the seams, with what exactly she does not know, but she knows all the same that she feels him intensely.

It seemed there had been a rapid build up without any sort of resulting peak. While she did wait momentarily in case he truly did have some immediate thing to say, it did not take her long to cut through the thick atmosphere between them with her earthy tones. Salutations, kin of mine. Her speckled muzzle ensures that her words are warm as they are simple, for while she wishes to discover and know this other, she also has no intention of building upon that initial energy he brought with him. Even as she waits and the snow falls all around them, she can feel the intensity he had portrayed slowly ebb and flow with the passage of time, akin to a fire dying out as it uses up all of its fuel. Unwilling to let him simply drift away, she offers a gentle coax that she hopes doesn't impede too deeply into his psyche. I am Midna. What is it, I may call you? Neutral tones accompany her naturally tenor voice, something she would perhaps never know was an inheritance from her Grandmother Rhae. Much like how the plains wolf had commanded herself with grace and authority, so too does her grandchild, though with a flare of her ethereal wood nymph tendencies.

Midna graces him with a soft smile then, one that undoubtedly reaches her two toned eyes and welcomes him into her presence. She does not want this wolf to turn and leave from here, for while she kept it simple for now, she truly wanted to know all about him, where he came from, who he was, and what he meant to her. The possibility of family was sharp in her mind and elated the heart in her chest; perhaps her encounter with her uncle and cousin were precursor to something more, and perhaps this unknown wolf in front of her was another part of that. Truly, the woodland wolf could hardly contain her excitement at such prospects, and though her body demeanor remained much the same as it was previously, there was no hiding the fire and passion in her eyes as she waited for him to speak.