Big Salmon Lake daring

An ear flickered at the idle greeting the wolf offered, her eyes sweeping over him in careful study. He was tall—the dark of his fur complete contrast to the pale softness of her own. The wind crept past her, causing her nose to lift before her eyes darted to the other silent wolf. Keen at maintaining neutrality, if not friendliness, the she-wolf still felt rankled at the honeyed wolf’s distant approach. Unwilling to greet them, but close enough that she remained suspicious he was not itching to catch parts of the conversation that would occur.

Jeweled daggers glinted at the Moonspear wolf before turning back to the wolf that had acknowledged her, and canting her slender muzzle slightly, the Diasporan forced a small smile to her lips as her hip gave another sway, halting in her pace. “Hello,” she returned, her own smoky voice carrying to the other. No other glances were given to the tawny wolf, lest he make himself fully known. Her stomach clenched at the notion that preys as scarce—and she had three mouths to feed of her own. Motioning toward the lake, she released a sigh. “Any fish in there?”