Duskfire Glacier this skin is tainted by wasted days

The cool wind blows through her fur, leading a scent right to her nose that she knows all too well. It does not surprise her to turn and see Reek; she’d met another Phoenix wolf in this area not all that long ago. It’s safe for the both of them. Thuringwethil eases her posture but she does not—cannot—shed all of it. Her tail stiffens at half-mast, ears cupping forward, but she relaxes the tension between her shoulders so she can shift and face the other dark wolf. Neither of them offer to close the distance between them.

Without a river between them, the necessity for business doesn’t build up on her tongue, and so she only allows a slight nod of acknowledgement. The male can leave, if he wants, explore the territory on his own, or he can approach. Thuringwethil doesn’t force him into an interaction but she gives him the chance to build a relationship outside of their life. On neutral ground, away from the threat of either of their homes, she sees the distant male as irrelevant but she cannot deny the potential they could share.