Hideaway Strath salt, sweat, sugar on the asphalt

Nyra would like to join in on the fun :> 

Lately, the pitch-white behemoth had found more enjoyment in the darkness than the light of the sun. 
Though direct sunlight made Nyra look like a Seraphim, heavenly and fierce...the moon's glow more or less made her look like a ghost. Perhaps a priestess of the night, despite the fresh-snow colorlessness of her fur. 

The dark hours were just peaceful. Much more so than any time of day under the claim of the sun. 
The quiet was nice, soothing. 
Plus, she wanted to get in a night patrol anyway.

Not much later than Hemlocke had appeared, the Harbringer stopped a few paces from his side, Nyra's inferno gold gaze seared into Zsuzsa. As burning as her eyes were, they were also cold. 
Perhaps akin to dry ice, in a sense. 

She stayed silent for the moment, figuring the two wraithwolves would know she was there without her speaking.

Partially because of the raven in the trees. Mostly because Nyra wasn't exactly a wolf that didn't draw attention in some manner.