Blackfoot Forest all gods dispense suffering without reason

The reaction is nothing short of bird-like: her head whirls in the Snitch's direction, bright eyes wild; filled with argent, aureate wrath at being pulled from her moment of rapture by such a quiet announcement. But as she saw him, the she-wolf became composed once more, and her slighter frame resumed its former state of relaxation. A crease already between her brow deepened, peering more closely at him and, too, recognizing him as she was made. If anything, she was only a tad wary, and she shifted her weight, sifting frost underpaw while she studied him.

Finally, a hum of "Noroc" carried through to him, hushed, despite the still, chilling air all about them. The word had enough polite forwardness within it to be considered a greeting, but then again, it was still in her birth-tongue. Her skull swept sidelong, eyeing him; coat feathery, tail at her hocks before she started forward; only meaning to close the few steps to be within better speaking distance. "I assume you are familiar with ze woods?" The voice was airy and low at the same time; lilting, and absolutely foreign.