Hideaway Strath salt, sweat, sugar on the asphalt

Suddenly a prodigious third wolf joined the midnight society of the two black wolves, this one cloaked in a stark ghost white with a frigid yellow gaze. Her presence cut off the oncoming pardon from the red-eyed male and even the Raven’s attention in the trees was pulled to the female, offering a short string of odd click calls. Her size far outweighed both of them combined, almost bear-like. She was clearly a higher-ranked wolf judging by the way the male suddenly dropped his ears and acknowledged her presence. This caused Zsuzsa to dip her muzzle and lower her ears in a courteous nod toward the female, unsure of customs of the Saints when it came to greeting higher-ranking members but wanted to show there were no ill intentions with the assembly of the two darker wolves. Zsuzsa was not aware of how far up the hierarchy she was, but her display and demeanor alone clearly showed it.
 
The ogling of the male from afar and the uncertainty of the encounter began to dissipate instantly. Announcing himself as Hemlocke, the Mackenzie pushed aside any further apprehension from him from the time being. ”Zsuzsa.” She responded, her silver gaze shifting to both of them to address her name. Her gaze briefly traveled back to the dugout before focusing back on the black and white pair. ”Am looking to set up a temporary den for the time being. Would this area be in a lot of foot traffic?” Zsuzsa attempted to make conversation with them both. Seeing as they both easily appeared, perhaps this was a frequented area of the territory. Being the newest Saint, Donovan dropped her in on her own to explore the Saints territory. Hopefully, Hemlocke or the female could lend a helping paw. There was much to become accustomed to, both in mannerism, terrain, and being accepting of the hybrids here.