Hideaway Strath Whims of Fate or was that strings?

As far as the Saints go with newcomers...or intruders, for that matter, safety for non-Saint wolves was a conditional thing. 

Nyra had been watching this black loner since she, Whrist, wandered into the Strath tonight. Nyra had been still as stone, soundless, though making no effort to conceal her presence in any way. 
Still, the midnight female didn't seem to catch on until she had finished with her little bath.

The mammoth-sized Paladin turned her muzzle to the narrow mouth of the Strath for a moment, then back to Whrist, leveling her head with her spine as she stalked forward a few yards.