Bramblepoint i always dream of electric sheep

Almost immediately July surmised that this young wolf was as strong as they came. She was confident enough in own ability that she did not shy away from the encounter or threaten him with posturing— much to the vagabond's feral delight— and instead met his brazen approach with mild interest. July's tentatively wagging tail picked up its pace, and though the momentum of his steps waned the closer he came to the mountain raven, not once did he pause in his ambling approach until he had arrived within kiss-or-kill range. The snowy wolf stretched his muzzle towards hers, prepared to retract at any moment, but eager to take in everything there was to know about her; where she had been; who she ran with, if anyone; who she was.  

But that was all mechanical. The only thing truly passing his thoughts was that he could feel a persistent nagging of the skindeep bramble he hadn't been able to reach, grinding at his shoulder every move he made.