Bumbling around a little, you notice a soft looking male wolf sitting alone. He was gazing off into the distance, watching the tree-line thoughtfully. You cock your head to the side and approach. When you greet him, you notice him flinch a bit and look at you. "My apologies, mötunautr (companion), I oft daydream 'tween veiðr (hunt)" He explained in broken words. He spoke in the odd tongue more than the other wolves around, his dialect indicating that it was what he was most comfortable speaking in. He blushed a little, embarrassed when he noticed your perplexed look.
Spicebush Swallowtail
Torc [Silver]
Hunter 
Hunter