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Frodo had come back from his little voyage with more than enough meat go round. It would feed the small pack well, no doubt. With so much luck on his travels, and enough information about the current prey in the area, Frodo couldn't help but have his spirits raised on account of his good finds. A grin was flashing on his maw, and the unmistakable glow of a healthy wolf was clear in his whole self. Muttering some kind of command to his steed, he urged the horse on, hoping to get back home as soon as he could. He'd have much to tell his pack brothers and pack sisters, even if that was what the pack seemed to be lacking in for the moment.
As the young man came across the pack, he felt his tail stiffening as a call rang out through the air. Saddle bags packed full of game swayed lightly as the man changed his course to the village and altered it to follow the call of the dog. He was half hearted in his pace, not too rushed and not too lazy, and soon he came across the blonde female. She did not look like she was from these parts, and he certainly hadn't smelt her before. Who are you? the man asked, his tone low and genuinely curious. She had called for someone of the pack and so he had answered. So he expected an answer back. China plate, or shepherds plaid? You a robin hood or a bad'n? he asked her in his usual riddles, tightening his grip on the white stallion's reins.
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