The Sentinels the carving of the way

i'd reckon before the howl? i mean i was intending for her to mooch over to that thread XD

She watched the sun as it rose, her eyes lingering on the fading horizon. Soon it would lose its vibrant colour and fade away until it was nothing... nothing but a uniform wash of plainness. This thought did nothing to dissuade the wiry female from watching in part amusement and part feeling older than she actually was. Much of it was ceaseless movement, the transition from dawn to day and the bustle of creatures - a posturing that Wanderer felt was needless. Hers was stoic, and still, yet another contrast to the surroundings.

Ironic.

Hail, rumbled a baritone sound. It was almost choked, as if it had spent a time amongst fires without moving. She imagined the bearer of the voice to be an ashen coloured wolf, stained black and scarred by flames. But when she turned, Wanderer saw only a ghostly figure, a staunch gathering of muscles and taut strength. She saw hungry greed, pulled her single belonging towards her. 

She lifted a claw, dug a gouge into the soft wood. That was one.

"Hail," replied the wolf, and she turned fully to face the newcomer.