Moonspear you might catch a star

A voice called back to her seconds before two figures emerged from the tree line at the mountain's base. Wildfire's heart leaped into her throat, briefly thinking the silver wolf beside Charon was her Aunt Finley. She quickly realized her mistake and felt her heart sink back down into the pit of her stomach. She paused, frowning, then continued traipsing down the slope... only to wedge her right forepaw against a rock and pitch forward, tumbling down the rest of the way.

"I'm okay!" she assured her audience, climbing onto all fours to brush herself off. She winced when she put weight on her right foreleg. She hooked it into the air, then examined it with her nose. It was tender to the touch but she was pretty sure it wasn't broken. "Or maybe not. I think I sprained my ankle," Wildfire observed in a grim voice, glancing up at Charon before her eyes flicked sideways to the wolf she had initially mistaken for Finley.

She had never seen the sea, yet the oceanic blue eyes looking at her sort of took her breath away. Wildfire suddenly felt especially embarrassed about her smooth move and she dropped her gaze and mumbled something under her breath. She then conscientiously refocused her amber gaze upon Charon (though she watched his friend out of the corner of her eye) and offered a crooked smile.

"Scouting the mountain?" she guessed. "You haven't seen a gray she-wolf around here by any chance, have you?"