Ankyra Sound sishou

When the owner of the voice approached, Tirgatao turned fully to face her with perked ears and a reserved expression. She pressed her lips together as a knot of tension and concern twisted up between her shoulders. The stranger reminded her, oddly, of nimbus clouds—dilute hues of sunlight cast across the planes where the fur grew dense, with light brushstrokes of ash gray dusted across her spine. They were not so different and she wondered, a fleeting thought that vanished before she could contain it, if she was looking into a mirror.

However, while the splita came across as friendly, what she said brought Tirgatao to the edge of anxiety again. Her own earthen eyes widened for a second, flashing with worry, before she was able to shutter the reaction and slam the mask of serenity back into place. When she replied, her voice was calm, "Tirgatao." One wolf was not cause for concern. But if there were others, she wanted to know about it. "I am, yes. Drageda we call ourselves. Have you met others from my clan?"