Meadowlark Prairie in flanders fields

Never in her life had Raven felt so at peace, not that she could remember anyhow. Her troubles dimmed and faded into the background at the back of her mind, leaving her blissfully buoyant. She felt like she was floating, actually, and when a white shape drifted into her visual field, Raven initially mistook it for a cloud. When it spoke, she turned her head to focus on it and blinked at the upside-down face of a white wolf.

A sober Raven likely would have rolled quickly to her feet to avoid being in such a vulnerable position beneath a perfect stranger. But currently, she could only stare for a few beats, then smile slowly. She did sit up enough to roll her weight onto one crooked foreleg but she didn't rush as she eventually pushed herself fully upright. She regarded the stranger with clear, bright, yellow eyes and a loose smile.

"Did you just call me pretty?" she asked in a shy but pleased sort of way.