Moonspear the usual

A pale figure, white as the moon and as lonely as one. Something seemed amiss with the unfamilar wolf. She smelled of Moonspear, yet Desdemona could not recall who they were. Perhaps new, she thought, for they were no intruder as the scent was clear. Though the other was in the route of her jogging as she patrolled, and momentarily stopped, watching.

Though she was not noticed, as the other had attention elsewhere. Jades followed to where her greens watched, and noticed a morsel in the midst. Were they perhaps hunting? She did not wish to interrupt, and remained afar, watching, but Desdemona did not hide herself and remained in the opening. Quiet, letting the other focus.