Sleepy Fox Hollow the wonder that keeps the stars apart

Sif looked away, not quite sure what else to do with her eyes. It was strange to spend time around wolves that weren't Fen, and it was strangest that one of them was a male that made her belly flip in strange and exciting ways. Part of her had thought Wardruna might take over for Fen and pick up where the aged male had left off, but this had not been the case. Even with as much freedom as Fen had allowed her, Sif found that she had far more agency under Wardruna's... control? Guidance? Ownership?

She'd figure it out later. For the moment, she had far more pressing concerns.

It'd started to snow. Sif knew that it would be better to tour the territory before it started to storm, and then they'd end the tour with her favorite place - Wardruna would be none the wiser.

"This way," she said, sliding along his blind side so that their fur mingled - shale against mud. Then the girl began to pick her way toward the creek, moving much more slowly now than the hasty pace she'd set on the way to the hollow. There was no reason to rush through the visit, and besides, this was how she'd first experienced and grown to love the hollow - slowly, reverently, and with a light snow swirling in the breeze. As they drew alongside the creek, a pearly flake landed on Wardruna's muzzle - Sif licked it away before it had time to melt. "Hvernig er Noma?" she asked, still not quite sure what to think of Wardruna's gruff, skinny friend. Generally, she endeavored not to.