Fox's Glade wendigo

The drab female was a curious one. She asked him a few short questions and one of his ears swiveled atop his crown before fixing forward once more. Burning eyes roamed over the shape of her figure and he found that she was appealing in her own right, for the figure of a wolf. The hazel of her gaze was drawing, if anything. The thief shook his head at her final question. No, not lost, “hunting.” His voice slipped through a narrow muzzle and he cast his head to the side. Though he was not searching for the foxes of the glade, but the form of another wolf. “Looking for wolf called Tiel'c,” he then added with a small, ghostly little smile. His smoky frame moved toward her a few tentative steps before pausing and then tilting his head slowly to the left.

“You lost?” Tadec then asked her, curiously. If the glade was where the wolves went when they were lost, he would have admitted to mistake and departed, but he was curious why she would ask him such a question, only to be wandering the meadow on her own, just as he.