Blackfeather Woods dream of a street

the feral child kept her posture wary as she was approached by the red-smoke wych; there was an aura to her that appeared dangerous to astara, or at the very least, spoke of some violent potential harbored behind the sheba's glinting garnet stare. astara froze as their muzzles brushed, and she inhaled deep. a map of scents unfolded for her then, sharing where zafina had tread, and what wolves she had come across.

the girl stepped back, pleased with their greeting. her posture smoothly adjusted from defensive to a little less on guard, though her fur prickled as the woman spoke -- all of her words unintelligible to the little savage.

with her inspection of zafina over, the nightcub turned -- the arc of her thin tail suggesting zafina follow her.