It was rare for someone to call out to him, especially in AniWaya. Despite the considerable amount of time the Haddix man had spent within tribal lands, he had done very little to make himself known. He was a virtual unknown here, in fact. So uninvolved in anything and everything. It went against Lannen's nature not to be so fully enmeshed within pack life. The tribe didn't function as a pack, not exactly. At least not a pack that Lannen was used to, like the one he had grown up in. AniWaya was still a network of connections, creatures depending upon one another and living peaceably. Still, Lannen hadn't quite found his place here. Or perhaps he hadn't quite found himself at all.
So much of his identity had been enmeshed within the Long Lake pack. He had immersed himself within his pack and his family. Now that he had to live without them, it was hard to redefine the way he should live his life. So much had changed, and Lannen was a creature of habit. He craved connection, although he would never admit it. And part of him was afraid to reach out. After all, it had been his own fault, his own doing that he led to the decision for him to leave Maine.
A howl pierced the air and the white man shook himself, rising from where he was seated. He had been working on whittling a stick down into nothing. He pushed bits of splinter and dust from his thighs, shaking out his hands and setting his work aside. Lannen did not live far from AniWayan borders, and it took only mere minutes for him to reach the source of the call.
The brown eyed wolf stopped upon seeing the young man. He looked familiar, painfully familiar. Although Lannen was certain that he had never yet met this wolf. Cocking his head to the side curiously, he let his eyes trace the young man before he spoke. "Yeah?"