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Nate took in the careful movement. Little darts of brown-blue eyes to feet, ears, tail, lips — subtle and certain in their assessment. Deciding the stranger posed no immediate threat, Nate started an approach, though he angled himself rather than move straight forward. Wide paws crunched in pale snow.

Not really, he answered. Not from anywhere close to here, actually. A wry smile followed, and he wanted to ask the other the same. It even occurred to Nate to offer a cryptic comment about the mysterious and unknowable nature of the world that facilitated chance meetings between drifters, which clearly meant this wolf business was starting to click, because half the wolves he'd met had chosen to open with something similar.

There was still just a little too much human in him to entirely forego the formalities he'd been raised on.

Nate. A short pause. The offering of a last name had mostly seemed to confuse the ones he'd met, but it still felt odd not to offer the familial attachment, so he added, Ronan. The, uh, recently dispersed. Pleased to meet you, Mister ...? Head tilted, asking silently for reciprocation.