Porcupine Ridge birthday in noir

"vuk," the she-wolf responded with the guttural sound that had become her title, the name to which her visage and actions were tied. somehow she sensed the chaotic emotions raging within this diane, and folded her ears back with a sympathetic whine. her own abilities of speech were woefully unable to bolster the confidences of this newcomer, and so vuk merely nosed the weasel across the ground till it bumped the other's toes. if food did not help, perhaps the show of goodwill would tell the woman she was a creature to be trusted. 

vuk gave a slow blink of her eyes. "dye -- in," she managed, offering an apologetic smile at her inability to speak the name properly. "what ... what wr ... on .. g." it was the most vuk had spoken in months.