Matteo was drawn out of his home by the constant complaints of a young miss Camilla, who'd discovered a rather signifigant leak in her ceiling. So Teo had dressed, groggily, to check it out, complaining about not being a contractor of any sort and that she should've been more concerned about finding someone even tall enough to fix it.
After eyeing the leak with dull interest, Teo concluded that it was in fact a leak in her ceiling, that he could not in fact reach it without climbing onto the roof (something he explained to be 'too fucking dangerous' at this time of year) and that he could do nothing to help her except suggest she find herself someone who could. Sorry Cam-squam. You're on your own this time.
He left the thoroughly angry little sister to her leak and headed out of the village, tucking his hands into his pockets a bit deeper, not at all dressed for the weather. He wore his jacket, yes, but no sweater underneath and his feet were... bare. No boots this time. His short hair was bed ruffled as if he'd been planning on heading home after checking the leak in Cami's house next door.
Except, Cami had made it very clear that until the leak was fixed, she was taking up the extra bedroom in his place. He had a very good reason to avoid going home today. With Gemma missing and Camilla in a rage, the house was no longer home. He headed instead, for the forested area around the village, hoping to calm his mind and maybe even find a warm spot to curl up and sleep some more; winter always made him sore... cold... and tired.
Thuk! The sound of something being driven into wood, then a voice, male, talking to no one. Teo's long ears flicked forward, picking it all up easily. Paw steps, 'next time', and then as he got closer, a flash of pale gray, off white.
Teo approached from the side, where he wouldn't be in the range of fire for the man, who was apparently throwing a spear. Teo pulled his coat (made of thick pelts, though the animal was yet to be determined) tigher over him, and he smiled. What are you doing? His soft voice sounded out carefully as he moved to lean against a nearby birch tree, blending with the white bark surprisingly well.
Dual-toned eyes flicked across the man's form, the pale fur, the spear he held, the way he held it... the scars. Another older man, probably the same age as Tedros or so, except this one was anything but a coyote. He had the scent, the appearance, of someone with a heritage purely constructed of wolves. This disappointed Teo a bit, but he would hold no ill manners for the man's breed; maybe he wasn't so bad.
