Northstar Vale my emaleth, my soul

Lasher smiled his charming, mysterious smile, and Bazi grinned nervously back. He didn't inspire unease, per se, but there was still something distinctly otherworldly about him that made her feel young and inexperienced.

"I remember," she replied, taking a few slow steps forward. After a moment's hesitation, she sank down near the bank of the same stream, tail curling around her hind quarters. They had no reason to converse, really. Lasher carried the scent of other wolves on him - his family, whoever they were; presumably Blacktail Deer Plateau or some other nearby pack. He was not ripe for recruitment.

Still, Bazi found herself transfixed.

"Who do you follow now, then? I don't know of any witches around these parts.." Bitches, sure - loads of them, but none that compared to Lecter's spookiness.