Whitebark Stream I clearly looked happy

The nearer she got to the water’s edge, the quieter the beavers’ beatings seemed to become; perhaps the threat of wolves was greater than any they could muster themselves. No matter, she continued—she sought to lay her gaze upon them, to see the stream’s guardians for herself. Someday, perhaps she may even make a meal out of them when their numbers grew great enough to support her plucking one from the water. But despite her desire to see them, it was another wolf that she spied instead—a vaguely familiar male, seen during their departure from the lair and the travel that followed.

Kaori slowed, her trot turning into a steady walk, whilst her eyes remained trained on him as he drank. She wondered if approaching might disturb him and considered taking an alternative path, only to be stilled by his chuff. Taking it as a welcome to approach, the dragoness continued towards him, greeting him by way of words as the distance was lost between them: “You came from the lair as well, yes?” She felt sure he had—and then wondered if he, too, missed it just as she did.