Bramblepoint point to the hills

"Now that," she began, "is a damn good question." She continued to peer out of the brambles, watching the rain. It had stormed much like this the morning she had left her old home. Water sluicing through her agouti pelt, the tears of anger and fear mixing with raindrops down her face as she left behind the only place she had ever known. I can't stand the rain, she thought suddenly, fiercely, and shook the water from her ruff, taking care not to spray her companion.

"I didn't have a plan when I left home and came here. I just wanted to get away." Nashoba looked at him, then, silver eyes boring into his gaze. "I'll probably stay. I've never seen a famine like this before, but I suppose it'll get better eventually." One eyebrow quirked in query. "Will you stay, or go?"

The golden wolf reminded her a lot of one of her companions back home, and she had almost used his name to address this stranger. That would have been awkward. "By the way, don't think I ever got your name," she added, just to clarify. "Mine's Nashoba."