The fellow explorer was clearly also an intruder to the castle; as Micah focused, he picked up the scent of a pack not too terribly far away, but one whose scent he recognized as almost friendlier than many others he'd passed by. The black male, though a similar color to Micah himself, however nearly doubled him in size and girth, clearly a much healthier black-furred individual than the measly coyote. He considered again how terrible he was at hunting and fending for himself, spending a moment daydreaming at looking that healthy thanks to the pack lifestyle, but he shook off the thoughts and offered the stranger a feeble smile.
"I'm Micah," he replied, straightening up as Gotham's gentle tone eased him out of his anxiety. "I don't really live anywhere, and I'm not from around here either."
The Lykoi crept a little further into the ballroom, eyes wide as they drank in everything that fell into his gaze. It was dusty at best, but the ballroom and castle itself were surely beautiful in their time. Humans were such strange creatures, but they had made for some interesting architecture — and what wasn't interesting, he spray painted graffiti on. So it goes.
Moving a little closer to Gotham, the coyote sat himself down, still gazing from place to place. "What's the legend?"
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