Firestone Hot Springs baby, you're like lightning in a bottle

Her eyes blinked open to fall on a wolf, a man of wood and earth, huge by her standards. This, certainly, was a right and proper wolf; the other one had been too small, and the other's she'd seen only distantly. Poppy squinted at the man through the mist, blinking again when he spoke to her. She'd avoided wolves as a general rule, they were truly wild, and such, she did not know just what they'd be like. Her mother had called them "a bunch of bloodthirsty hooligans", but then again, her mother did tend to be on the dramatic side. 

She didn't reply immediately, weighing first the validity of her mother's words. "living,"  She replied, for certainly, she planned to survive, and for the first time in her short life she felt as if she were living. Life under her master had been lacklustre and dull, and while it would not be incorrect to say that she was naive for sacrificing security for adventure, Poppy merely had a different (and, some might argue, impractical) list of priorities. "are you lot friendly? wolves, I mean? I heard you're vicious." She questioned, a tilt of her head punctuating her question. Might as well address the issue quickly, lest she be eaten.