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A monster perhaps. Heath thought as he wondered what sort of creature gave birth to the male that took his hand in greeting. A giant. Heath had heard that stories, human stories. But there could be giants of the wolf kind, maybe ones that produced the towering male. Heath hardly came to the male’s shoulders. It made him think instantly of advantages and how he would fight such a beast if need be. It was only instinct and habit to think of it, a survival skill. Run Heath concluded. If the male turned on him he would simply run his hybrid ass out of here. But the male gave a friendly face and a tone that spoke of a becoming acquaintance. “French, my native tongue.” Heath answered as he looked up at the yellow eyes that pierced his softer honey gaze. The tattoo that accented the other’s face caught his eyes and held it there. He would ask the male about it, the design intrigued him.
“It means ‘light’ in this language.” The common speech was Heath’s second, but he felt as if he spoke it was ease. “I’d appreciate that.” He spoke with eyes wandering off into the distance. He had to walk quickly to keep up with the long strides of the taller male. The roan mare followed, though at a distance, still unsure of the Dreamer. Heath began to fall into a brisk gate that eased his worries. A smile even came as he explained. “If they run, then I am at a loss. But if they have stopped to graze, the mare will help he get close.” Heath had done so before, yet his intention was only to look and see rather then pick and gather. “They can be docile, yet the rope will help in the persuasion.” Another grin came as he thought of it.