"I will see."
All though the thud is soft his ears pick up the sound, tipping in the direction without lifting his head, as the breeze that brought the sound to him waves his mane and tail gently. Brynmor’s hearing is better than average, just as his sense of touch and his ability to smell. He can hear the male approaching while the droplets of water drip of his chin. ’He has come to fetch you like a dog’ his buddy snarky remarks, but it doesn’t reach the gray man’s ears.
Carefully to not slip he moves himself backwards again until all four of his hooves are on the shore. He snorts softly while curving his neck slightly to reach in the direction he guesses the stranger is. ’Oh lucky you. Like they predicted, there he is, the almighty Tundra warrior. I hope you’ll be happy as the Tundra’s poor little boy’. Brynmor grits his teeth together before stomping his foot again, trying to hide his irritation by pretending to scare off the summer flies. No, he is no longer a stranger. He is Hurricane, as the stranger introduces himself. ”Brynmor. My name is Brynmor” he replies instantly. ”From nowhere really” he adds after a short pause and offers a wry grin.
Still trying to determine where Hurricane is exactly located the graying black sways his head around, his body following the movement until he is pretty sure that his blank orbs are staring in approximately the right direction. ”Can I assume that you have come to offer me a place among your ranks?” The male in front of him played it direct, so why couldn’t Brynmor himself? And why wouldn’t they deal with it like this? It was clear that he was looking for a home and if Hurricane would’ve had doubts he probably wouldn’t be here anymore. So why shouldn’t he play along to speed things a little up?
He knew what he had to do, but who said he couldn't use the situation for his own good? Life among the Tundran warriors couldn't be worse than spending his life in utter solitude. The darkness was already maddening enough.
"Through your secret."