Silver Moraine chain hits my chest

A small part of her, tucked away somewhere when she left her home, expects the other wolf to recognize her. The way the stranger eases into a neutral stance instead of a submissive one leads with unfamiliarity. She knows she’s too far from her homeland to be a common occurrence and the changes of the last few weeks left her side empty of an advisor or guard. Even Snacha hadn’t come this far with her.

“Hello,” she greets, offering a gentle whisk of her tail against the backs of her legs. “Where are you headed?” Thuringwethil lifts a brow in her question, looking over the other wolf’s shoulder. None of follow either of them, she hadn’t really planned her own trip on how far she’d planned to go, but too much further would extend her trip a little farther than she intends.