Blackfeather Woods galaxies formed from gravity

The further away from home she’d gotten, the less likely she was running into wolves that are familiar in tongue and virtue. Having traveled for weeks at this point, when she does see another, she doesn’t expect much. Her ears cup forward, watching the form turn from a snowy background into defined features and angles. Dark blue eyes hardened on his form until he is close enough to speak.

Carefully, she relaxes her posture and lowers her head. Common tongue slipping from his mouth is no surprise and she licks her lips, preparing for something unfamiliar.

”You from here?” she asks with a point of her nose; an obvious question. An easy one. As much confidence as she places in most things she does, this is not one of them. Her eyes fall on him again, noting the faded pink on his shoulder, like the blood when she approached. Maybe it is all so intentional. ”Where is this?”