Swiftcurrent Creek pont neuf

The stranger didn't appear to notice her, which was just as well because she stood downwind and the scent identified him as a male. Wildfire shrank backward, trepidation filling her breast. So many men had betrayed her trust recently or hurt her otherwise. She couldn't deal with it anymore. Wildfire suddenly wondered if there was such a thing as a pack comprised only of females. The mere idea felt like refuge.

An accented voice called out and Wildfire started, head turning this way and that way. The wheat-colored stranger had disappeared from view, yet surely it must be him calling. Who was he talking to? And where was he? Despite herself, the yearling crept forward, trying to pinpoint his location. She passed the sapling he had been studying during her own brief reverie about a wolfish convent, then spotted him.

He looks more like a she, Wildfire found herself thinking, and perhaps that was the reason she didn't back away again. "Um," she said a little stupidly and a lot uncertainly.