Lost Creek Hollow all that may seem is but a dream within a dream

Had it been given a few seconds earlier - and from the distance she'd been then - the woman's answer might've unsettled the sterling male. But he could smell her, now - the animal scent of her. She was no spirit or apparition, but a wolf. A small one, with the stale oder that spoke of lonesome nights clinging to her pelt.

Day began to feel very silly for being so superstitious.

"Grayday," he responded, not quite sure what to make of her cryptic introduction. Now that he'd written her off as a regular wolf and not a preternatural creature, her mannerisms seemed more confusing than mysterious. "Of Easthollow," he added, feeling that his own introduction had left something to be desired, especially after her own flowery intro.