these streets are yours, you can keep them

She could sense the discomfort in the boy's voice, again she fixed her eyes on him and studied his face carefully, the contrast of his nose against his pure white pelt and the long arch between his eyes and his nose. He seemed alright.

Cara waited for him to stop speaking in order to answer, "Silvertip Mountain," she barked clearly then cocked her her back a bit, "And you?" she questioned more out of curiosity than simple courtesy.

She was used to being rough with strangers, remembering that other's intentions were always questionable, she would speak to them crudely and in uniterested one-word sentences thinking it would suffice. Being in a community such as a pack, was now obliging her to change her ways. Pack wolves were sociable beings and now Cara, being part of one, had to learn to do so too.