Noctisardor Bypass my throat is a beehive pitched in the river

Harlyn's smile faltered very briefly when the woman expressed her sympathy for the missing Luke. It was hard sometimes to feel hopeful that she would locate him. She couldn't even remember how long it had been since he'd left. And though she was still quite certain that all it would take to bring him back was to find him and let him know that all was okay and forgiven, that she wanted him to come back home, and he'd be there. She just needed to find him and tell him she loved him, and that she needed him to be home with her again.

The woman's voice broke her out of her reverie. She canted her head and the sincerity returned to her smile. "Florence," Harlyn replied thoughtfully, "What a beautiful name." The alpha paused then to actually look at the girl before her. Instead of looking at her as the wolf who was not Luke, she began to appreciate the wolf who was Florence instead. She was rather quite as beautiful as her name.  "I'm Harlyn Ostrega," she said, her gaze lingering a bit obviously on her pale features, "Alpha of Lost Creek Hollow."

"What brings you to these parts, Florence?" the druid asked with a cant of her head, truly interested.

The conversation moved easily and freely from there, and for a time, Harlyn was comforted by this stranger who looked so like the one she longed for but was not. She left the woman's side with peace in her heart that would drift to longing from time to time. It would pass to mere fond memory, but always the druid would keep an eye out for the next pale beauty without such a narrow-minded hope that it would be only one, knowing that the other would be just as welcome a sight.