Lake Rodney And even monsters can do good in this world.

The fur along the back of Towhee's neck prickled uncomfortably when the stranger pointed out that she needed someone to listen. That was true, but it should have been Phox. Without him, she should turn to the shrinking number of wolves she could still trust: Uncle Elwood, Aunt Finley, Raven, Lagan, Orca... but she didn't want to admit her vulnerability, nor bother them with her emotions, not at a time like this. Still, it was even worse to unburden herself on some random passerby. Her exhausting fury was now giving way to embarrassment and a sense of vulnerability that made her deeply uncomfortable.

The kindly she-wolf wasn't associated with the Blackfeathers—the mercenary chose to take her at her word—but didn't provide many more answers. Feeling totally discomfited in the heat of the spotlight, Towhee tried to shine it on her instead. "Well, who are you then?" As she questioned, she sniffed. The cold air deadened her keen sense of smell somewhat, though she was still a wolf, with a powerful nose. Something about the stranger's scent reminded her of Hydra and suddenly her dull eyes sharpened.