Fox's Glade and when you’re right, the strength to stand your ground

he seemed undeterred by the frostiness that met him; perhaps, like a wane trickle of sunlight, whisker was used to such cold terrain, and warmed it with his implacable cheeriness all the same. sharply the she-wolf's ears rose at the sign of a throat being cleared: that rough and unfavorable noise earned him a second, equally unfavorable look.

she wasn't about to extend her help to a stranger -- least of all a male one -- and was distractedly composing ways in which to give him the slip right up until he mentioned a name.

wraen.

anyone could describe a grey wolf, and it would be anyone's guess who they spoke of -- but to put a face and a name together was a different matter. indra's suspicious gaze swept across his tall frame -- from the unremitting black of his sable pelt, to those absurd fans of white whiskers that sprung from his muzzle in the same prehensile manner of a catfish's barbels.

he may have mentioned a name, but that didn't earn her trust. he might catch the flicker of recognition in her gaze -- she didn't hide it -- but then she blinked, and it seemed as if somewhere in her, something had closed with the finality of a finished book.

"i've seen her. but i don't know where she is." indra wasn't being entirely forthright -- but she wasn't lying either. wraen had mentioned leaving the sunspire, and indra had not seen her since. all the same, she kept what she knew of wraen close to heart -- there was a very real possibility this male was not to be trusted, and indra would be loathe to give away the location of her friend if it put her in danger.