Living on their own for so long did leave him with a sense of caution he didn’t used to have. His white ears tilted back slightly and his hackles prickled just slightly. Of course he was a more gentle brute when he left and he still was, he was just hardened now by the years of roaming and having to deal with the unexpected now and then throughout those years. After all, he had scars scattered all over his legs, couple on his back, and then of course the most defining on on his cheek. None of those had come from his days in Moladion. Not a single one. Still just because he was here, and this place never sent wolves that would attack him, he also kept in mind he had the safety of a pack around him his entire stay here and that cannibals existed even in Moladion’s borders.

So when the airy voice called out to him, he turned quickly. It was clearly feminine, but it wasn’t that none of these scars came from female wolves either. More came from males, but there was were some from some fem fatales out there too. His expression was still generally guarded, but his hackles at least dropped and he looked confused. Apparently she had mistaken him for someone else. Not hard if there were a lot of wolves from his family left. Many used to sport white pelts and red markings. He had a little black, but even his aunt had black adorning her. It wasn’t unheard of. Of course he didn’t know the angel line had thinned out while he was gone and very few remained that sported the ‘classic white’ pelt of his family.

”I’m sorry, but who don’t I look like?” He asked confused, and unable to stop himself though he noticed her twitch and look away as if she heard something. She was… a strange one. He felt a little uncertain near her, at the very least his guard hadn’t dropped completely. He wondered though if it was a family member she meant. She was young one, but not a child that was for sure. His ears flicked slightly trying to pick up on the sounds of anyone else that might be nearby, but she seemed to be very much alone.

”I’m Sinclair if that helps, who are you?” He could smell it, even though he had been gone for some time the musky smell of the moors was clear, and he had passed by it not long ago on his checking over of the lands. The moors in the past were always filled with strife, but there was no saying what it was like anymore. After all it had even gone to war with his aunt’s lands back in the day when the demons were around. Did they still exist? Did they still have control over the moors? He didn’t know, but maybe she had some answers? Something told him it was going to be pretty hard to get some straight answers out of her though.