Wapun Meadow Improvise

Her brow furrowed as female responded negatively to her greeting. It was not a furrowing of offence, for none had been taken, but one of concern. It was a beautiful day; the sun was shining, the meadow was alive with colour, all its brilliance surrounding them and yet, there shone no light in the eyes of the creature that stood before her. The smile had been vague, the female's irritation did not lie with Artisan and, from what she could decipher, would not be amplified by her presence. She would stay in their exchange for the mean time.

The next time she spoke, Artisan smiled softly and almost shrugged. Was was this place, really? "You have reached the borders of Ookaan," Artisan-Lou began, softly, "A pack I stumbled across merely a day or two ago." There lay a moment of silence, and Artisan felt that this would have been the time in which she'd have provided more information about the pack's existence, lifestyle, numbers. They both knew that this would not be the case so early on. It was no fault of her own. "I've been travelling," she offered, as it seemed by her uncertainty that the female before her was doing just that.