The naked woman ahhs and nods. A smile flickers on her face, now that the formal part is done with. The flushed cheeks of the Man don't go unnoticed either. Hips swaying lightly, her steps inaudible, she ghosts close to the man. Her hand soft and warm as she embraces his, her naked body close. He might catch her nostrils flaring slightly as she takes in more of his scents. Perhaps she's trying to detect tell-tale scents of oil from a firearm or a blade. Then again, perhaps she is judging his... virility.<br/><br/>"You must be tired of the road. We have a campfire in the building over there. Coffee, tea, sandwiches."<br/><br/>Her pull is insistent, if friendly. A disarming smile, a playful flicker in her eyes. Something deeper too - a desire, a hunger. The envelope with the invitation semi-forgotten.<br/><br/>"My name is Irina. I don't even know your name. Nor about the four corners. Nor the ancient paths. Not the first and last you speak of, after all. You have to tell me a bit more. And I don't want to hear about you having no time. After all, you waited here patiently, no? Come on, let me pamper you a bit while you tell me about this mess." Now that the need for formality is past, a thick Slavic accent creeps into her speech. The wolves around detect this, of course - its a sign she is at ease. Easily a dozen wolves lope from the surrounding forest, sniffing at the Man, fishing for a scritch between the ears from Irina, or simply accompanying the pair. Some humans come into sight as well, tending to their jobs, some playing with wolves. There is a strong impression of easy familiarity, of deep blood ties.