Porcupine Ridge Dreaming of Spring

Illea. Her name was as pretty as her pelt, Diane thought. She wagged her tail in return, remembering her smile a moment behind the normal cue of the expression. She was just getting used to having it again. "Yes, it is. I'm actually really happy to meet you," she admitted, hoping to make better impressions on the few she hadn't met than she had previously with others. Those had been disaster episodes.

"I haven't distracted you from anything, have I?" she asked, aware that she could've walked up on the pale she-wolf in the middle of her hunt or something equally as probable. She hadn't exactly surveyed the situation before approaching. Diane wondered if she needed to fix that habit...