Whitebark Stream overworked and underwhelmed

bhediya's hackles were at a slight rise but she maintained her composure. it was an instinctive response; this she-wolf — however much like dawn she might have smelled — was unfamiliar. she didn't want anyone that she didn't trust coming so close to her developing young.

there was still a fair amount of distance between them. not wanting to seem rude, she lifted herself into a lazy lounge and said, sorry, i'm fine. though flat and unemotional, her voice held no hostility. i'm bhediya, she continued, hoping to break the tension.