Blackfeather Woods Where the wild things are

Short post :P

A screech from above her caused her to halt in her steps and survey the trees above. The branches of the trees provided a thick canopy above, almost entirely blocking out the sun. For a wolf like her, this guaranteed satisfaction for she always hated how her fur was set aflame under the sun's scorching rays. On the downside, it was also a way of camouflage to any and all birds that lingered up there from her strained view. 

To the trees she responded, finally catching sight of an owl resting in the hollow alcove of the tree. She had never spoken to an owl before, surprisingly. Not like she ever had wished to, categorizing the species under the "waste of time" list. Yet, she had to admit, their senses we're admirable. If only wolves had the same level of accuracy and intelligence.
"What does it look like?" She replied, not bothering for courtesy. An owl was an owl, and a wolf was a wolf. The tension was inevitable, regardless of hidden emotions. She wouldn't pretend to like anything for the sake of 'kindness'.