Blackfoot Forest and she left her land — chaos

she is pulled from her frenzy by a voice, and once its source was revealed to her she halted completely, her delicate jaw parted though no sound came out.

it was like looking at her reflection, only this mirror image had longer fur and his eyes, instead of mismatched, were a cold and reflective moonbeam silver.

she was only awestruck for a moment before the smell of her own blood and further vocalizations from the stranger pull her back to the situation at hand.  

while taarlok had spent much of his life twisting carefully produced lies, the wolf with no name had spent her entire life without the capability to understand those around her.  she relied partially on tone and inflection, yes, but most of all she relied on her sense of smell.

and her sense of smell said this man is a lying liar who lies.  either way — annoyance, amusement, neither emotion was something she wanted directed at her.

hallo, she demands, with a tone of 'what do you want' in lieu of friendly greeting.