Blacktail Deer Plateau woke up on the wrong side

“Lost, dear?” Whatever self-perpetuating grumbling Finley might have entertained came to an abrupt halt, as did her walk. “Or just wandering?” She noted, with mild surprise, that despite the “dear” pet name, not a drop of condescension soured his tone.

Hulking beasts masquerading as canines were no stranger to Finley, and for a moment she might have thought the speaker was one of the Helios wolves. But distinctive markings, along with a scene that wasn’t quite wolfish, betrayed his differing heritage. And she’d certainly never seen a tail like his, thrown over the back in a curl that made her own tail sore. Finley might have found it funny if she hadn’t got the immediate sense that, if he so pleased, he could have her on the ground in seconds.

His tone indicated no such intention; Finley wasn’t going to test it. At the surprise greeting she’d instinctively raised her head, but now she brought it down, midway between full alertness and shoulder-level. He’d asked a simple question. No immediate threat. She’d respond genuinely in turn.

“Wandering,” Finley confirmed, daring a few steps forward lest he mistake her distance for hostility. “Was about to pass these woods, in fact.” She turned her nose to the forest; the stranger bore a similar scent. “You familiar?”