Strangers at the border, strangers from Northfall. Dimitri showed his face for a moment to get an idea of their faces and then disappeared as quickly as he came. Now he's made his way back towards the mountains, ready for none of them to seek him out. He's still of the mind that he's an enemy of that pack, even though the messengers seem to be little more than yearlings. Still, he's sure he can get trounced by a yearling.

He stops to observe a skull he's been cleaning. This skull will be the conduit for his bone-reading, hopefully a mouth to amplify their voices. It's a bit hard to clean it, given that the bugs are all hibernating. Bits of viscera still cling to it, and he's likely to have to wait until spring for it to properly decompose.

But it speaks well enough with flesh. Turn around, is the message he gets. It's followed by the sound of footprints in the snow and the smell of another wolf. He turns, noticing the Northfall yearling boy with the silver-gold fur. His gaze is neutral. "Are you lost?"