Phantom Hollow A Healer's Hands and an Alpha's Heart

She'd done her best to keep clear of the haughty healer, hoping to wait her out and keep a distance until she was gone--how long did she really need to stay anyway?--but when her howl cut through the midday forest, beckoning anyone who was interested to come to her, Mitanni felt her typical stirring of curiosity. Why did she call them? What did she have to share?

Visibly reluctant, and even more hesitant, the lithe brown wolf was drawn to where Veritas was. It took considerably conscious effort not to let her body sink into its customary cautious crouch, and she knew she failed at hiding her nervousness. Of everyone in the pack, Veritas had seemed the most open to hostility, confident enough to swagger in and control their meeting that wasn't hers to control (regardless that she oh-so-generously handed that control back over). Mostly Mitanni worried about being singled out. She wasn't one for conflict, and definitely couldn't hold her own in a fight.

And yet she was the one to approach her, eyeing the woman with discontent. Veritas didn't appear as haughty as Mitanni had grown used to seeing her, but instead looked...accomplished. She tread softly, lightly, her tail twitching and visibly displaying her nerves, but she clung to the knowledge that she had every right to be here--maybe even more so than this temporary wolf. "Veritas," Mitanni greeted neutrally, stopping with another twitch of her tail. Why had she called?