Moonspear West side story

Literally immersed in her work, Ness didn't realize she had a guest until he spoke from somewhere behind her, drawing the young wolf into a slow backpedal as she squeezed out into the open and turned to face her company. She had a bone in her mouth, a fawn's femur by light guesswork. Bi-colored eyes drank in the young male before her. Moonspear seemed to have no want for teenage wolves, and Ness was suddenly pleased at her fortuitous choice of residence. "Hehhy," she greeted him, smiling over the length of skeleton in her jaws. Belatedly, she realized it was effecting her speech, so she dropped it and gave her dusty body a shake.

"It's going pretty well, if I don't say so myself," she grinned to her full capacity now, inclining her head as an afterthought bc whoever this male was, his rank was higher than hers being the newest face around here. And judging by his scent the boy seemed well-acclimated, if not a standard fixture here. She recognized his scent from the borders, and the heaviest scent of his coat had lined Moonspear as well. She thought him too young to have a mate. A roommate then, perhaps. "I got this bitchin' new pack to call my own (by the way, is everyone here really ridiculously good-looking, or do I just have low standards?) and I've just gone and found this dig, perfect for sunset viewing. Check it out," she offered.

Motioning to the spot beside her, she faced outward from the mouth of her den, and overlooked the wooded valley below. Though the sun would not set for some time now, it was easy to imagine how colorful the place would turn in the right hour. "I'm Ness," she added thoughtlessly after a moment.