Lion Head Mesa Running is a victory

"Hey," Pipit breathed back, relieved that the voice was not only feminine but absent of any malice or coy tones. As they drew closer to one another, she realized belatedly that the other she-wolf wasn't black as she had initially thought, but was a deep chestnut hue instead. In the poorly reflected light of the moon, the stranger even looked a little red— serving her an eerily beautiful glow that Pipit felt drawn to rather than deterred by; and the continued silence between them beckoned her to fill the silence.

Pipit wagged her tail, hopeful for a friend. "Beautiful night, isn't it?" she smiled, bravely coming so close to the taller she-wolf that she could touch her if she reached. "I mean, there isn't much to look at around here," she added with a sheepish glance to their dusty surroundings; "but the stars are brilliant, and they cast you in a nice glow." She was unabashed with her words, quick to look pleased and slower to be careful with the stranger. Belatedly, Pipit took in her scent, nothing that she smelled much like herself in regards to the absence of any recent company.