“Her name is Pump,” she explained, all too excited to exhibit that indeed she had a friend. Perhaps one would look at this in a pitying manner; that a wolf of her age showed such excitement for companionship. But she was far from embarrassed, only glad for the good fortune. A life in isolation made it difficult for connections beyond a passing word. To have one to visit, to call them ‘friend’, was a treasure the woman was all too proud to exhibit. However given how poorly her confession of camaraderie had been received by the Creek, she hoped that the same would not occur on the Ridge.
Only the greeting moment would tell, and her spirits were much too high to succumb to pessimism this day.
Smiling, she continued as she took an inquisitive step forward. “Do you know her?” |