Silvertip Mountain You may feel a slight sawing

Though Olive was well disguised behind the fir tree, her scent had forsaken her. The strange wolf, not too pleased that she had company, immediately frozen and spoke harshly at her invisible audience. As the wolf spoke, Olive slowed her breathing and tried to hush her loudly beating heart. After a quiet and motionless moment, it was clear to Olive that staying still would be a mistake.

“Hello, sister” greeted Olive as she slithered out from behind the tree. To Olive, all wolves were born of the earth, belonged to the earth and eventually returned to the earth - making each one of them energetically and infinitely connected. To call her fellow wolves her ‘brothers’ and 'sisters' was the least she could do to honor that divine connection. This time, however, the warm words “hello, sister” held an even higher purpose: Olive wanted to soothe the riled stranger that stood before her. In the dwindling light Olive had seen the stranger’s eyes narrow… she wanted to pacify any tension before the stranger had reason to bare her teeth. 

Olive fancied herself skilled in the art of speaking and relating. Sometimes, a careful selection of words could be more effective than tooth or fang. Internally, Olive felt quite confident in her abilities to relate, smooth conflicts and kindle flames. Because of this, finding friends had never been a difficult task for Olive. 

Slowly creeping into the open, Olive faced the wolf and bowed her head. “I thought it had been abandoned - I apologize for my intrusion on your territory.” A deep breath. “I did not take much from your land, only a few rabbits and voles from the field.”