Honeyed Pasture lavender and lemon

until spotting the lone traveler, she'd thought all the wolves here lost. it was eerily still, and she'd certainly hungered since finding her way back here. once, twice had she crossed great cracks in the earth itself, and earlier that morning she'd passed through a flooded woodland, half of the great trees felled, with reverence. 

and so Vuk moves to greet the stranger quickly, half-worried he'd disappear just as quickly as he'd slipped into her field of vision. "hey!" she chuffs, should her heavy-pawed approach not suffice in gaining his attention. "can I walk with you?" solitude is a mantle she wishes to shed, and yet she's mindful of the stranger's claim to it.