Cerulean Cape Only the Wind

The other wolfess responded in a friendly manner before she promptly excused herself, and Durnehviir followed her movement toward the sea with curious gold eyes. She bounded across the damp shore and threw herself into oncoming waves, disappearing for a few seconds before emerging once again. The crimson Frostfur smiled, amused, as her newest acquaintance loped onto land and shook out her pale fur, leaving her looking rather bedraggled.

She did not envy her. Durnehviir, being part Arabic and despite her strong Northern paternal bloodline, was her mother's daughter in that she was a delicate creature. She was sensitive to the cold, and didn't fancy shivering all the way home to Ravensblood. The sodden wolfess approached Durnehviir once more, she turned slightly to present the back of her head, asking if she'd succeeded in removing whatever she had been working on. "It looks okay," she said, noting the dull wound beneath the golden loner's damp fur. "What happened? Does it hurt?"