It was clear to the ebony female that another wolf was coming into her field of view. But the darkness of the land kept able discernable details hidden at bay. It was really her nose that told her what she needed to know – a male, a wolf, and he reeked of the territory that lay beyond here. Standing her ground, she waited for him to inch closer, only slightly illuminated by the soft moonlight that peered above.
Neither of them spoke, and for Nantale, that was just as well. But she figured eventually he’d ask her some obscure question, demanding her name or where she came from – something she’d really not want to answer, but most likely would be forced too. These lands, after all, were not hers, and she was certainly not a native. In fact, she hadn’t a clue where these wolves hailed from and what horrible things could be dreading in their pasts. Luckily for her, they too didn’t know of her background, either.
The ebony female just stood there idly, a soft grunt escaping her lips as she waited for the male to make his move – whether physically or not.