Blackfeather Woods unintended worship

theirs was a silent communique, but one that relmyna found she could not easily tend. perhaps it was the newness of the other pale woman, her pristine pelt aglow against the patchwork nature of the evoker's own. they could not understand one another, for the tyro had not yet come to know relmyna. that was all right, she decided; the aspirant priestess was good-natured in her own way, and sought to reissue the question.
this time she lifted her scarred muzzle and regarded the den with an exaggerated sweep of her eyes; she brought her gaze back to the wolfess then and tilted her head more visibly, this time with a smile wreathing her ruined lips.