Wheeling Gull Isle ships crash, it's what they're meant to do

When he spoke, she inferred immediately that he was friendly. He had a funny, sort of lopsided smile, and he lowered his body which Thresher immediately took as an invitation to play, but being much more shy than her siblings, she didn't hurl herself forward or move toward him right then. She smiled faintly, and withdrew behind the curve in the wall for a moment as a breathy, girlish giggle resonated in her throat, as whispy and silven as a spider's silk. When she peeked out at him again, she moved forward a bit, so that she was no longer hidden, as she had been taught to be polite, even if she was a bit shy. 

Her tail wriggled between her hocks still, and she regarded him with an eager and inquisitive gaze. She didn't know who he was, but he had to be one of them; perhaps a new member...But there was something somewhat familiar about him. She thought she remembered him, from long ago- but her earliest memories of the members of the pack she'd met as a pup were quite blurry. Still, something told her that they had met before, so she was willing to trust him. "Hullo," She replied, her voice light and quiet. Thresher was not a wolf of many words- and the few she did speak were often hardly audible. But, like her mother, she was perfectly capable of communicating with her expressions and body language.