Ghost Lion Crag Puck-wudj-ininee

You darned little rascal... Wraen thought to herself, when she had lost the hare from her sight again, but spotted a very familiar face in the distance. Charon might have been one of many white wolves in the area, could be mistaken for any one of them, yet, one's memory can be very keen on recalling the exact features and looks of a person, who has not been very pleasant. Setting him up with her was truly a deed of a mischievous spirit. 

"Good day to the King of the Mountain," Wraen said, having decided that she had nothing to lose in attempting to talk with her mother's old friend and that just in case things went really wrong, she had back-up closer than he did. "What brings you here to this area?" she asked, as she would have done to any stranger she would have met not too far from the fence of her house.