Verdant Basin ignite

The creature that approached seemed apologetic, but to be truthful Saga had already put aside the fright she had experienced; the oncoming stranger did not appear to be aggressive and so she presumed it had been entirely accidental. Still, she did not move to intercept them. It seemed readily apparent that the tawny wolf would bridge that gap, so Saga remained poised upon the cool river's edge and basked in the softness of her surroundings. The sound of the river slipping by was a soothing thing, one she had never experienced from any water source before — the sea often raged, and this vein of it was quite different.

When the stranger was closer, spouting apologies and another greeting, Saga murmured a soft hello, and dipped her dark snout. Her eyes roamed across the stranger swiftly, gathering valuable information as innocuously as she could; it would be rude to stare. But this woman was very different from the wolves she was accustomed to — more like herself actually — in the way that she was compact, narrow, and fleet-footed. They did not look like a warrior to Saga, not like her brothers or the beasts of her natal pack, which made her ask a silent and internalized question: am I too, a southern creature?

Her thin smile did not falter, although there was little mirth in her eyes as she turned away from her new companion and looked upon the water. She didn't know what to say to this wolf as her conversational skills were rather lacking, but she tried, and finally queried: Is the south always this... Mild?

Of all the things to talk about, and Saga chooses the weather. How mundane.