Whitefish River Ole King's Blood

Wynter's face was instantly conflicted when the intruder didn't look scared or caught. There was a soft rumble from his throat which she assumed was a laugh? She raised her hackles. She would keep her ground! She felt a bit bamboozled when he said that he wasn't an intruder. The girl didn't drop her stance though, because the intruder could be lying. But then-- he used her name, her old name actually. The girl defrosted and curiously looked at him. Her orange orbs really taking in the man but nothing came to her.

"No," she returned, but there was doubt in her voice. She did notice that his coloring was also grey, like her and her mother. "I'm not Primrose anymore. I changed it to Wynter," she added then. She stepped closer and sniffed him out. He didn't smell like the wolves here, so how come he wasn't an intruder. He looked far older than all the wolves she did know. Then she remembered grandpa was old. Her eyes lightened up. "Are you my grandpa?," she asked.