Silvertip Mountain Somebody gimme a beat

The thrum of water on water whisked her away on the cloud of her mind. Her thoughts became weightless as birds drifting through her head like it was the open sky, transient and unimportant. Yet Mystic could only enter this head-space where worries melted and emotions burst forth for a short amount of time, because June was still alert and could sense the near soundless approach of another creature. She was forced to resume the mask of June as she turned timidly and let her fiery eyes flutter open.

Krypton wasn't a wolf June ever interacted with, and for good reason. She was an intimidating wolf, somewhat more masculine than feminine and very unlike June. Her paws were large, sprawling mitts that hugged the ground and thumped with her weight, hefty for a female wolf, and her chest was large and open. Her face was womanly, but the illusion was broken by the scars that drew jagged lines in the thin fur. For June, who was almost vain in a childishly innocent way, Krypton was frightening.

The girl's tail waved nervously at her hocks as she folded back her dark-tipped ears in deference. "Hello," she greeted in her crystal clear sing-song voice, but it was tremulous and unsure. Krypton was a trusted wolf of FitzDutiful, or so June thought, but nevertheless, Krypton wasn't FitzDutiful nor Steady nor Mason, so her size wasn't comforting in the way their size was comforting, and the Zeta was cautious and intimidated.