Cricket Creek Bog Now I'm a ghost, I call your name, you look right through me

She paused at the question, answering shortly but not unsweetly "Golden Glade." A snickering voice crept into her head, reminding her that she really should not trust outsiders. She tried to ignore the voice, but looked at the fae with slightly more suspicion, as this was a wolf prowlign near the territory.

Her face grew solemn at the fae's remarks about her mate, the story was heartbreaking. She stayed quet though, as the women went on. She cocked her head when the other said she was searching for a home, a question on the tip of her tongue. "As a new member, I couldn't decide, but the Glade does take in wolves if they prove themselves in a spar." Her voice was serious, still holding hints of her sweet presona.