Lost Creek Hollow the stars are alive

The fox vanished, pulling the gaze of the dark wolf up to the image of a pale one. The jade of his eyes lingered on her features for some time before she spoke and asked whether she might have been bother him or not. The dark beast smiled softly at her before he shook his head and motioned so that she might draw closer.
 
“No, not disturbing me at all,” the young wolf’s voice sounded verbally.
 
The sunlight that glittered through the foliage had dappled her figure. He caught the mismatched color of her eyes and the dark that marked the backs of her ears, a contrast to the pale alabaster that he could see dominantly holding her fur. Though he had never met this wolf before, she seemed as though she was roughly around his and Journey’s age. This was a small comfort to him. Most of the strangers who had happened upon him had been kind enough. It was no surprise that there had been such a close-knit comradery with the wolves of the Morningside pack, when it had existed.
 
“Do you live nearby?” Brave inquired of the female.