Qeya River Ocean glass

Wildfire tried really hard not to look pitiful as she watched Sadie tuck into her meal, though when the morsel was tossed her way, she wasn't above snatching it from the ground and quickly swallowing it. "Oh," she said as it slid down her throat, nose wrinkling slightly, "that's not very good." But beggars couldn't be choosers, could they? "But, uh, thank-you?" It came out as a question, since she didn't know if Sadie had chucked it at her out of pity or playfulness.

She was from someplace called the sanctuary, which didn't ring any bells. But all of a sudden, she remembered running into that scrawny coyote hybrid with the queer accent. It was a lot like Sadie's. Wildfire grimaced at the memory of watching him disappear beneath the waves. She had felt so strange and helpless. Idly, she wondered if Sadie's sanctuary was synonymous with his cabin. After all, how many wolves were running around with that strange accent and a penchant for cackling?

But she did not bring him up, since the memory was still such a peculiar one. Instead, she answered Sadie's question by saying, "I'm from a pack a little north of here, called Sleeping Dragon." Wildfire paused, considering something. "I don't know where you were headed when you ran into me but I wouldn't go any farther north or east from here. Drageda doesn't take kindly to strangers lurking near the territory." It was a warning, yes, but a friendly one.

On that note, there wasn't much reason to linger here much longer, seeing as she had given up on fishing for the day. "Thanks for taking the time to show me the ropes," the yearling said, jerking her head to nibble at a sudden itch on her bony left shoulder, then standing again. "I'll keep practicing," she assured Sadie, although she was sure the other she-wolf wasn't particularly invested. "But I'd better head back now," she finished, offering a thin, hungry smile before pivoting and loping back in the direction of the volcano.