Cerulean Cape take me to your waters, lay me on your shore

Wahh I’m sorry for the wait

The other woman drew closer with zest and purpose, but not in an overtly powerful manner. For this, Indie was thankful; how she dreaded wolves who flaunted themselves! …except herself, of course. Indie took several easy steps towards the strange shewolf, receiving her kindly. Almost immediate the vaudevillian was addressed by the other’s statements and facts [albeit with a slight intonation of questioning]. Indie canted her head, the slight movement rippling down her thick, velvet-lined pelt. Who was this wolf before her, and who was the red woman she sought? They mystery inflamed the vamp f’s curiosity even further.

“Aye, I might have.” Indie suggested coyly, a hint of smile dancing across her stained lips. She had not seen any wolf, small and fiery as the Thuringwethil described, but that was not enough to keep Indie from bending the truth. Continuing the act, Indie easily conjured an image of the lost fire wolf; most fiery wolves Indie knew were hot heads and quick to anger, so Indie easily feigned her knowledge of the lost soul. “She was angry, right?”