Sleepy Fox Hollow mental cabaret

Safety in numbers. That was what Cyclone was hoping to achieve, at some point, although getting there was going to be quite the process. And yet, she was a determined little fucker, so she fully intended to keep on keepin' on. The wolf who had asked the question was a pretty one. Red and yellow and brown and lithe. Cyclone opened her mouth to speak, but it seemed safety in numbers was more than just a question, because somebody else approached them.

Looks like you've found the numbers, she replied with a sideways glance to the wolf who had approached without saying anything. Safety, on the other hand... not so sure about that one. The latest wolf to arrive looked older, gruffer, and like he'd seen a few too many years. Then again, maybe it was just his lifestyle that had made him look so rough around the edges.