Stone Circle in the streets you run free

He looked out idly at the territory, the stones in the distance casting long shadows over the snow. She picked at a clump of snow caught in her forelimb, wishing yet again that she had the thick, short pelt of Murdock. Ears flicked towards him as he spoke again, abandoning picking at her forelimb. 

She shook her head, ears flicking back as she contemplated. The first few days here had been spent a nervous wreck, and gradually had she begun to wander far from Murdock's den. "is it really true, that someone might think I'm prey?" She'd worried, and fretted, and feared, but it hadn't truly sunk in that somewhere out there existed a wolf (wolves?) that thought her a meal. Her brow furrowed, chestnut gaze falling on him.