Stavanger Bay Stranger Things

oh why hello there, darling, fancy meetin' you here ;3

Among the onyx outcropping peeked the sleek grey back of an approaching wolf, picking its way lightly towards the scarred banshee in a way that deigned she belonged there, and the ghost at the borders did not. Despite knowing this, her sparse tail rose without preamble, perhaps picking up on the mousey she-wolf's sliver of uncertainty. It was all Furiosa ever needed to take advantage of a situation— and her perceptive black eyes, with the pupils lost deep in ink, hardly ever missed an opportunity to control a situation.

Still, her lifted appendage waved; not only in a holier-than-thou confidence, but also in a soft deference that spoke of a tentative friendliness. Furiosa knew better than to cause trouble at the borders of a pack— though she certainly wasn't beyond it— and she had no intention of stirring the pot today. The she-wolf's scent hadn't reached her across the space between them, and the wind wasn't in her favor, so she had to guess this was a member of the pack ahead. "I wouldn't come across," she assured her of the border-marking stones, though probably unnecessarily. "I was just being nosy."