Sawtooth Spire I can't get you out from under my veins

Call it superstition, but Wylla was afraid to get too close to any of the stone giants. It seemed like a good way to jinx herself into an early grave. She treaded slowly, giving them a wide berth and sticking closer to the proper trees when she found them. It wasn't long before her pensive silence was broken by Melkor's arrival. She shot the blue-grey wolf a quirked brow when he revealed he'd never seen the likes before.

I'd be surprised if you had, she agreed. Seems a bit unnatural, doesn't it? I'd be worried that you're secretly an alien if you were familiar with this. But anything else she might've said on the subject was cut short by a distant howl. Wylla was grateful for the distraction. She didn't need any further excuse to get away from the forest of stone. The unusual arrangement gave her the heebie-jeebies and she didn't think she would ever willingly come back to this spot.

She glanced sidelong at Melkor, giving him the opportunity to take the lead before making a beeline for the source of the call. To say she was shocked to find a mini-me of the broad tundra wolf was an understatement. As they drew near, Wylla practically gawked at Quellcrist, eyes bouncing uneasily between the man and the girl. She couldn't help the thoughts that spilled across her mind in that moment: would Melkor accept her without hesitation because Quellcrist was obviously his daughter? She would do the same if Tiercel came calling, but since she had a master's degree in hypocrisy, Wylla didn't like the idea of anyone else getting a free pass, so she fixed Quellcrist with a bit of an unwarranted searching glare.