Swiftcurrent Creek samba master

I have no idea what Jinx's rank would have been, which works out because Solene now has the opportunity to establish herself as higher if you want (which she should be anyway)!

They came headlong at one another, affording Jinx ample time to assess the strange female passing along the bank. If she were to stand side-by-side with Solene, then she would appear to be adolescent, all sharp and stick-limbed. Solene, by comparison, had a figure fluid as the creek along which they both padded. Hers was a body shaped with expert hands, as pottery, to bear sumptuous curves. It gave off an air of softness, and had she man parts between her legs she might have pined for that beauty. Instead, she was somewhat envious, suspicious what Lecter might think of her, and cautious.

Her coat was a rare thing indeed, to Jinx, who had lived amongst wolves cast in strict black or white. Solene was chinchilla grey, with a lighter ventral bottom and a peppered top. Her paws, too, bore peppering, something Jinx only noticed when the female flicked her gaze down to the Kesuk's own marked paws. Solene said something unfamiliar, though the prelude of "good day" suggested it was polite.

Nonetheless, as always, Jinx felt the need to question it. Her stance was rigid as she stopped her motion, testing the waters with stiff wolfish formality. She didn't know where Solene stood amongst the Swiftcurrent wolves. This begged the question of who was top dog, a question which Jinx asked with her stiff body language. Her muscles were taut and her legs rigid as she fixed a pointed stare on the voluptuous beauty, demanding with her eyes Solene's position.

Yet, she did not forget the greeting. She addressed it with characteristic lack of elegance by grunting, "what's that mean?