Moonspear hazine haze

The shadow never found herself particularly attached to one route, nor to any singular goal awaiting her at the end. Instead she only listened to the subtle curves of the forest, and the mountain at large, until it was someone else's presence she found dotting the landscape--and it isn't one of the usual sorts, interestingly enough.

Not one of her own, so it is with new that she let her paws draw closer to his golden-furred countenance (a welcome enough contrast to such drab, slow grayscale skies). Each step nearer lightened compared to the last and though a calculating look about her as she's gauging him doesn't so openly suggest outright friendliness, she picked up a slow rhythm to her tail to counter it. Her greeting in turn comes as a short, small rumble back too.

He had stayed with them for the summer so far and come to know several of her offspring. Ame has seen him in passing, smelled him on several of hers, and for this alone, she ought to know him. He seemed to know what he needed to, replying to her company with respect and pride intermingled well, and never had she come close enough to see the extent of the scar running on his shoulder either. When she paused with her approach angled at him so she may look at it pointedly, then back towards the rest of him; she wasn't shy about sizing him up. She knew he guarded her home, came experienced enough in some manner. What could he do, how could he? His stature suggested strength, his lines meeting well enough at a mere glance.. this wasn't a wolf crafted carelessly, she suspected. Could he answer?