The stranger woke, yet she did not seem entirely hurried by his arrival. That made him feel more comfortable, at least. Fledge had come to be suspicious of those who moved too fast, accustomed to a more slow, passive world of socialisation. In the wilds, where many were loners themselves, it often took a day or more to even get close enough to exchange names. Caution was important, caution kept wolves like Fledge alive long enough to pass on messages and find the right wolves. He could not help but exhale the smallest sigh of relief.

Fledge had not anticipated her to call him over so willingly, however. That alone made him momentarily brace himself, the newness of it enough to confuse his very instincts. She had to have been a pack-wolf, and he had certainly not passed the borders, nor did he think he smelt anything like a Spirane wolf ought to. Yet, she called for him to join her regardless. He was flattered, though he did not hesitate quite obviously as he paced forward, only breaking into a slow jog after several feet. It was if he had tested the borders themselves, expecting some kind of resistence from the scent-markers. The woman had called him 'stranger,' after all, so she must have known. He was just unaccustomed to such open invitations, though mostly surprised that what Israfel had said had been completely true. Many were prone to...embellishing their tales.

"It has certainly been some time since I've felt a summer like this," he said with a wave of his tail and a bow of his head, having come to stand a short distance from her. "My name is Fledge, a newcomer as you might have guessed. I met a wolf of Spirane beyond Moladion, and he requested that I deliver a message when I arrived in Moladion. Does the name Israfel mean anything to you?" His head tilted, and he thought suddenly that the question itself might have seemed odd. Fledge was not used to much of Moladion's culture, and he did not know if packs were as temporary as they were in some other places. Alphas could change often, sometimes disappear completely, and though his message was not one of particular sensitivity, he had to ensure it went to the correct wolves.

He took a moment to relax then, albeit briefly. He exhaled slowly, then breathed in the mountain air deeply. It made him remember all kinds of other places, but it made him think of his birth-home most of all. Even if this wolf did not know the name Israfel, or if their alpha did not wish to receive a message at all, he might be tempted to ask permission to visit the mountain itself. After so long of roaming, he could not help but think it would do him a great deal of good to feel a memory beneath his paws.