Hushed Willows i always make such expensive mistakes.

The strange wolf said nothing. His form seemed to fade away into the thickly falling snow as he stepped back and, presumably, left. Artaax breathed easier at this, but apparently he was not done being pestered by strangers. A new voice sounded over the storm as the boy was settling back into his temporary den. His hackles prickled as he looked around, searching for the source of the voice but seeing nothing. Alarmed, he frowned and called out once again, "Who's there?" Apparently snowstorms brought the ghosts out.