Swiftcurrent Creek even the sun is dressed in black

Distracted as she was with her rabbit, the little red wolf did not take into account that he was much, much larger than she, nor did she pay heed to his measured way of speaking. It was only until he turned away that she took notice and decided to linger for a moment more. She studied the profile of his face and jumped a little when he decided to turn back. "You're intimidating," she said aloud in a muffled voice, mouth still full of rabbits and completely devoid of good manners. She felt as if she were speaking to a sage--or someone very, very old. His peppered coat aged him. Placing down the rabbit, she glanced at him nervously before shyly sitting down. She did not want to presume that her company was welcome, but he seemed gentle enough, and she was now a fellow pack member. "Stars die all the time, though," she said in a matter of fact tone. "This one is still young," she said gesturing to the one above, "as it is still bright, but I think it's the older stars that have more character." She had not picked up that he was sad, at least not consciously, so it was without hidden intention that she asked, "Do you know who he is mourning for?"