Following the female was easier said than done. Her black and white pelt sometimes blurred into the scenery, although Noss was used to following such wolves, having grown up in a snowy land with a snow-pelted sister and mother. The silence was gracious, giving him time to at the very least thank the moon for giving him a guide away from the accursed lands. But, of course, the lack of conversation could not last forever, given that his guide was female. And to answer that prejudice, he could say without general emotion that yes, he did not view most women in a very positive light.
He frowned at the question, though, but decided to answer. "A very willful tailor," he replied with brusque affection, a smirk quirking at his mouth. It was true in all aspects, he supposed, but there were more descriptions he could use but just cared not to, feeling like it would be exposing a weakness. "Tell me, what is your pack about?" Noss could not deny that he was at the very least curious about the pack, the ones he dubbed enemies. 'Know thy enemy well,' was never an idiom gone amiss.
Warrior walks. "Warrior talks." Warrior thinks.
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