Swiftcurrent Creek and now what?

When she finally stirred beneath the holes that Haunter was boring ruthlessly into the top of her skull, he looked unabashedly into her eyes, which were a soft shade of blue that would've undoubtedly been pleasant to another wolf studying her. He saw that she was young, mainly a tell in her gently tapered features not yet sharpered with experienced or blunted with age. He licked his chops as she pushed herself into a careful sit, eying him calmly though it was clear she didn't know what to expect from the inky wraith.

"So I am," he agreed with a quiet huff that would have otherwise suggested he was bored or uninterested if it weren't for his continuance to stare. His singular ear twitched, an indication that he had been thinking and was done now. "Did I wake you?" the dog rasped to the dirt-licked snowflake, feeling a little petulant and wanting to know if he was the cause of her unease—not that this was his intention.