Fox's Glade oh guard the pounding sound

indra. the russet girl too relaxed, settling to the earth. mona regarded her with a wistful mingling of worry and interest. her everything — had cortland ever been such to her? "missing," the mayfair informed her companion with a grim twist of her mouth. not gone, or so she hoped. cortland was a gentle soul — mona was not certain how well he would fare in the frozen wilds, and knew she was long overdue to search for the boy.
"where are you from?" the crimson she-wolf inquired after a polite pause. to be so well-met by a stranger; such things did not often happen to mona, and the mayfair was more than happy to seize the opportunity for a distraction. she had not before scented the packland that had woven their fragrance through the other girl's sanguine-shaded pelt.