Sorry this took me so long :X

Travelling around Cour des Miracles...had not been as easy as Noss had insisted to himself it would be. He had arrived back in the territory to stay with Strel for awhile--eager to, he found--and had sort-of patched things up a little with the tailor. But he had gone out to hunt--he needed to, no way around it--and had found himself quite lost. Still in the territory, but completely not where he needed to be. In all honesty, the last few days of tension--not just with Strel, but of finally finding his sister, of the reality that he would have to return to the Crescent Moon Pack and tell his father that he wasn't going to stay...--had left him pacing the rooms of the Chien more frequently than he would've liked. He need to move, however unwise that was for his particular navigational situation.

He came to a large clearing fenced in by far-off mountains and the sea, a large building made of wood dead center with the tell-tale scents of horses present. As well as another wolf. While Noss had, on principle, ignored and stayed out of the way of Strel's pack members, he was not going to just wander around aimlessly until they sent out a damned search party. He walked to the building, two rabbits in hand, and saw the female wolf leaning on the side of the barn. She was tall and well-muscled for a female, and had a golden fur that stood out plainly against the snow. At first, he was at a loss at how to introduce himself; 'tact' was not exactly his forte, as he had painfully learned over the course of his life. Did it change anything? Nope.

"Hey," he said rather brusquely, leaving it off there. Well, how am I supposed to ask? 'I'm lost, can you please lead me back to the Chien?' Yeah, that'd go over well. He was not some timid puppy, and asking to be led someone in such a fashion would've done a number more to his ego than he was prepared to handle; especially after the past two months. He was coming to the point where he just needed to keep moving--if to just release the stress and extra energy--even if he knew situations like the one he was currently in would coincide with the activity. He stood apart from the female--a respectable distance, none too presuming of his rank as stranger--although he kept his high head and pride.

Warrior walks. "Warrior talks." Warrior thinks.

OVERDUE! T~T

He realized, then, that this female who had the posture of someone who was used to fighting and had battle-hardened eyes might be seeing him as a trespasser. After all, he did have Cour's prey hanging dead in his hand, and he was a) uninitiated to the pack and b) only smelled faintly of the pack to hint that he had express permission to be there. Instead of getting in trouble, the grey warrior looked at the rabbits and to the female, waving his hand from side to side in reassurance. "My name is Noss. Your King gave me permission to stay here." It was more than she had asked, but he'd rather give the information than end up being attacked. He didn't want to put Strel's head on the chopping block for a stupid mistake of the grey male's, much less his own life. Noss was...often oblivious to his own emotions and those of the wolves that surrounded him. Less often this was happening to him for Strel, who Noss could read through the expressivness of his eyes. But this wolfess was like Strel, in a way; he could tell that much. Where Strel was not physically strong, he had a castle wall that guarded his emotions and heart, where there were few chinks in that armor. Even though this female was physically strong and had similar chainmail, it appeared as if eyes were a universal, tell-tale communicator.

Her eyes were sad.

Noss was actually put off by this. In all his life, the one thing he could never handle was crying, whether he reacted by grasping hopelessly for something to do or by rash action (as he had done when Ralla had cried in front of him, Strel, and the white wolf). And although the wolfess didn't look sad, Noss was guarded for the possibility, however unlikely it seemed it would happen. One of the main reasons he had stayed away from most women was because he couldn't handle their weak personalities. His little sister was the exception, and he bemusingly thought that the reason he couldn't handle it in others was because he took up too much time handling her own personality. But more so, this female wolfess in front of him reminded the warrior of his childhood friend, Naka. The wolfess from back in his homeland was strong as well--never cried, never showed weakness as Noss had come to assosciate with females in general--and at one point he even thought that he might fall in love with her. That was impossible now, he knew--and Strel knew, too, even if he rejected it--but Noss still felt that close friendship that made him see bits and pieces in those of strong will. He remembered Strel had, at one point, also reminded him of the sturdy, steadfast wolfess. But no longer. For one reason or another... Noss could no longer compare the two, and he mainly attributed that to his unexpected feelings for the tailor. Concerning the task at hand... At least the female appeared enough in control that he could perhaps as for directions...?

"I, uh..." He cut off, unsure of how to continue the question, returning to his earlier dilemma of pride. Along with that, the female's apparant state of mind made it no easier. "Are you...alright?" Coming from this gruff and stoic man, it must've been odd to hear. Noss might've been cold and aloof, but he wasn't heartless.

Warrior walks. "Warrior talks." Warrior thinks.