Wapun Meadow the needy eat man-mades, they wear phony clothes

The excitement died out, and the priest did not miss that it was on point with her words. Her counterpart took distance and looked upon her with a serious expression. The priest could not quite grasp what was going on in the dark wolf's mind or heart; they had been apart so long, and besides, the priest had always been much more apt at speaking the language of the spirits than that of the mortal wolves around her. She did not affiliate with them as much as with the unseen.

The priest glanced eastward, towards the walled valley up ahead that her dark counterpart had come from. The priest looked inquisitively upon her counterpart, silently asking the questions, but not pushing her sibling for answers should she not wish to share in any way.

She, in turn, had no worries about being accepted; she did as she was. The advantage of not having as much affinity or affiliation with the mortal was that she did not care for such mortal worries.