That makes me laugh; a human emotion. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH-

Her eye was weeping. The elderly wolverine pawed at it briefly, the chill of the leaking tear annoying her. She knew that the sight in her right eye was disappearing — bit by bit, day by day — but this was annoying. She couldn't be tearing up randomly! “Этого нельзя допустить ни при каких обстоятельствах... — This cannot be allowed under any circumstances...” she muttered to her body. “Стоп. Сейчас же! — Stop now!” She knew that it was no use, but the outburst made her feel a bit better. She blinked rapidly, clearing the last of the liquid from her eyes. “Я, плачущий от всего... — Me, crying of all things...”

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The dark Ostrega set out beyond Shiroshikan guardianship today to scratch the itch to hunt. He could use to stretch his legs some, too, and the expanses of the tundra welcomed him. Chasing rabbits in the foothills and near the garden had only kept him busy for so long anyway. Eventually, he had to move on past harassing the locals and take himself elsewhere for fresh stretches.

So he ranged, alternating his trot with a canter when it suited him. He didn't come out here with a particularly discerning taste, but instead, open to opportunity.

When his nose wiggled over such a fresh, uniquely musky trail, he followed. It was too new to not, but it didn't quite spark his appetite proper. He was too nosy to not, though, and came loosely trotting up towards the wolverine--immediately lifting his head when he could see her furs, and hear... something, but he certainly could not make it out. Ears splaying next, he was not entirely aware of what ailed her yet, not exactly, but the curious predator in him had definitely shown up because of it.

Antares slowed up with several lengths separating them, just to be sure as he sussed out what he had found.

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Despite her best efforts the eye continued to weep, chilling her cheeks as fat tears rolled down. The wolverine winked a few times, pressing out what remained. She told herself that it was her vanity that made her scorn crying, that she was determined to keep a strong demeanor to the last. And that was true on some level. But deep down the prospect of losing her sight frightened her — the free-flowing liquid was a sign of the irreparable damage that had been done to the socket and eyeball. She was glad at least that it was one eye and not both.

The rest of her senses, however, were still strong. She heard the crunch of snow behind her, but couldn't smell the watcher. No matter who it was, being seen was the last, last thing she wanted. Pivoting her body, she glared at the creature who approached. She had to turn her head more to properly see the being: a dark male wolf with blue eyes. “Vhat you vant, э — huh?” She scowled, hoping that the eye was at the very least glossy and not weeping.

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Some distance was smart, he affirmed swiftly. The wolverine didn't look pleased to find him which was about what he expected. She was a bit more responsive than he maybe anticipated--or hoped, maybe, in the off chance that she might make for a prey options instead... But, it had been a long time since he had seen one up close and alone, he was only a single vantage point anyway. He didn't have his brothers or Bronco to back him up at this one this time around.

He didn't like being followed either so knew he warranted some attitude back for that alone. It kept him leaning his weight back just subtly enough, ready to seek more space should she make him need it.

She questioned him in an unfamiliar tone that had his eyes narrowing further, circling his neck around to look at her solidly--from where he stayed, at least. “Was all that noise you?” he asked, referencing before, vaguely enough. It was what helped hone him in, at least, so he wanted to be nosy. He had never heard such, or really.. stopped to talk to a wolverine before, though.

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Khadne blinked slowly. The answer to her seemed obvious. “Да — yeah.” was all she bothered saying, not even translating. A younger her might have followed it up with a challenge, but she had no need to fight with a lone wolf, especially over nothing. She got in fights with tigers over practically nothing and that was enough for her old bones. The weeping eye would be a hindrance, especially as she got used to the reality of her fading vision.

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He had not heard something like that before, so curiosity about that seemed right. Especially if he was not going to function strictly with his appetite in mind. Antares wondered if she lived near here, and what of the tundra she might know if so.

The answer felt like an affirmative to him, so he took it with a slow draw of breath. “Something happen?” he tilted his head, trying to investigate nicely but he wasn't very good at it. If she wasn't easy prey, maybe he could wring out some sort of conversation unless she tried to shake him off entirely. Still, he didn't get too close and squinted at her from a comfortable few lengths away.

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He looked at her curiously, in a way tat she couldn't quite approximate by sight alone. She frowned though at his question. “I'm gettink old,” she blinked, feeling a tear spill out despite herself. Grumbling, she swiped it away. “Ispodvól' i ol'khú sognosh', — Little strokes fell great oaks.; Time conquers all.” she shrugged. It was the consequence of living for so long. Her luck and wit in her youth afforded her more time, but for what? More time for her to "enjoy" the ravages of time and old scars on her body before it eventually swept her away like everything else. “You some pack volf?” she could smell others on him, too deeply meshed in his own scent to suggest a singular meeting.

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Knowing what little he did about her species, he had little other choice and took her word for it with a slow nod. Which, he found it did make sense, which gave him a new light to regard her with. She must be fierce. Or had been. She probably still was... He had especially never seen an old wolverine before, so they must not be commonplace. Antares didn't particularly want to find out how much of a bite they could still bring though.

He couldn't catch any of those words that followed, despite his twitchy ears over it, before she whipped a question back onto him in a language he did grasp. “Yeah, from the mountains north a bit,” he glanced accordingly but otherwise, carried on:. “Pack's called Shiroshika.” he replied readily. “Do you live here?” Wherever this was, exactly.

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She hadn't heard of this one. Of course, she was not like Thrax who was deeply interested in the lives and politics of the canines running around the place. But knowing where they were helped a bit. “Ahá — uh-huh, around.” She nodded. She'd claim the whole tundra if she were a decade younger. She wasn't much for territory nowadays, save the dens she had made for herself. “Haven't heard of your pack, zhough. You big?”

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It was an answer that he supposed would have to do. Around. Not knowing enough about what a wolverine should do, or the spaces they would claim as home, he would simply accept. As for his pack, he nodded small. “Big enough for my likes,” he replied easily.. They were plenty to keep track of already. He knew their numbers needed guards more than anything else, so he'd like to see those ratios improve before the pack's numbers bolstered any. But in Shiroshika, it was not his call to make and that was perfectly fine with him.

He breathed deep, and mulled asking more about the workings of her lifestyle, but this longer look at the elder creature let him decide not to press. He didn't want to push it. His hunts needed to continue anyway and she had firmly identified herself as not food--so he would do her the service of being on his way. “I won't bother you anymore,” he said for a farewell, and began to gather his paws up to go, then lean towards a pivot. “Good luck.” the Ostrega said before he set off. Who knew if he would ever see her again, but: noted for next time he passed his way through here, just in case.

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