Sunset Valley when you were mine, the world seemed to burn

The other approaches and with each step, Thuringwethil is able to admire the traits the other wolf has despite the lonely winter clinging to her scent. A little thin, but large, and her strength is obvious in the way she holds herself. Her shoulders pull tight, tensing with the close proximity the loner dared to create. The dark leader’s ears cup forward with the sound of the greeting chuff once she’s come to a stop several yards away. Her features define and sharpen this close and her own dark eyes soften.

She’s left lingering in their silence without returning the same gesture as she curves her body to the side. Her fur bristles over her tense shoulders but a playful grin teases the corners of her lips. Thuringwethil ducks, a few snow-crunching steps and she’s trotting off into the valley, heading further north. Once she’s put a little distance between them, the yearling tosses her head over her shoulder and encourages the stranger along with a bark.

The female doesn't play along, continuing about her own way, and Thuringwethil takes it in stride to wherever she heads to next.