Otter Creek memories

Amsu paused in his turning at the approach of a white wolf. Moon-touched, he thought. A lucky sign. She merely flicked an ear at him before bending down to drink. He turned to face her, but instead of saying anything, he sat down quietly and looked out at their surroundings. If she wished to speak, he would let her do so on her own terms. Amsu was generally quiet as it was, unless he was with his own people, so he was accustomed to silence. Gently, his tail thumped the ground beneath him, just to let the woman know that he was friendly.