Duck Lake not all treasure is silver and gold

The air was polluted with noise and the thick scent of duck; the inkstain did not know why she lingered. Perhaps it was the scent of another on the breeze. Over the last days, she had found herself meeting others more frequently, and finding more meaning in these interactions. A chord had been struck within her, a sense of loneliness revived after such a time that she hadn't thought herself capable any longer.
Deep bronze, rust-tinged fur caught her eye first, as wild and unruly as her own. Her pace quickened, a chuff falling from her lips as she drew nearer to the other wolf. A rare thing happened, then; she was confused. The stranger appeared androgynous, perhaps more masculine at first glance, while scent offered no clues. Male would have been her first assumption, gaze trailing over lanky frame and jagged scar; overall, a rugged impression. Yet something in the slenderness of the other, the angular features...

Hello, She offered when finally she was able to tear her gaze away from the stranger's form, quite aware she had been rather rude in her prolonged staring. It was not the first time she had made such a mistake, however, and would not be the last.