Grouse Thicket A black fly in your chardonnay.

Wraen was met with neutral politeness and, while the other spoke, she took a moment to regard the girl's handsome features. Contrary to herself, the other did not bring scents of other wolves, which was a relief for her as well. For a while it had seemed that quite a few groups of wolves had decided to settle along the coast, claiming some of her favourite grounds both for hunting and leisure. 

"Not that I know of," she shook her head. She had met other people now and then in the thicket, but no one had expressed a desire to stay. "There is a youth of mine that is hunting at a different corner of this area, so don't get alarmed, if you hear some crushes and swearing," she added. And just as she said this, somewhere far off some birds fluttered up in the sky. "That would be Elfie," she added, beckoning to the general direction of the ruckus. 

"My name is Wraen - I am leader of one of the packs nearby," she introduced herself and waited for the girl to return the favour.