Bearclaw Valley some kind of plastic i could wrap around you

unaware of taylor's approval, astara moved on.

many wolves in her life had become perturbed by her silence; and in many ways, she had become perturbed by their insistence to hold onto conversation. there was something to be said for two souls moving as one, with no need for words to clutter the channels of their communication.

the nightshade's tail bobbed as she heard taylor behind her. somewhere here, the scent of coyote lingered. astara's black nose glistened as it twitched, her long ears straining to hear anything in the murkwood that might give her clues as to where their quarry had gone.