Cricket Creek Bog And pray for the thunder

"Lovely to meet you," Wraen dipped her muzzle politely in response and had a good up and down look of the girl. She was very beautiful, her light green eyes contrasting nicely against the silvery gray fur. Roughly the same age as well, but all young wolves came to a certain point in life, where they looked the same regardless of whether they were a yearling or a sturdy wolf, who had already seen many summers and winters pass.

"I have no idea," she shrugged. Few hours, half-a-day? The sun had not set already and she had begun her trek at dusk. "I am not from here though - ever heard of a pack called Moonspear? I got lost in a snow-storm and wandered as far as the pack that lives in that forest," she beckoned to the location, where Tindome wolves resided, but from the place, where they were standing, they could not see it any more. One stretch of forest, mountain and lake away. And bog as well.

They spoke for a while and then their paths parted - Wraen headed North, Ivy - wherever her destination in the world lied.