Lost Creek Hollow If you're lost out where the lights are blinding

Coelho was long gone from here and little did Maia know that the proud and self-important masked guardian, who came to meet her on the borders first, was the one, who had desecrated her dear former friend's grave. Knowledge of which had only Indra, who had probably got her first white hairs that evening, and the god himself. Nunataq measured the bulky, grayscale she-wolf with a glance, feeling slightly less sure about, where would they stand, if combat was to arise. In her limited fighting experience the wolves that were built as solid concrete bricks had the nasty habit of sitting on the light and slender ones.

With this knowledge tucked in her pocket and with the confidence of an inhabitant, who meets a prowler in their apple garden, she announced her presence to the other with a huff and a dark stare that was meant to be intimidating, but did not come as such, because the teenager was still growing in her shoes. Curiousity was a more prominent feature of that gaze than hostility.