Falls of the Hinterlands cascades of the moon god

Though he had parted ways with the she-wolf not long after their initial encounter by the sea, it seemed the two had tread similar paths nevertheless. In a world so vast he could scarcely believe such a convergence of paths possible, but strange things did happen every day. Lovecraft had accepted this as a reality long ago.

Well, yea, he admitted with a grin, emerging from the brush and slithering to the water, where he sat a reasonable distance away from her. How are you? His tail thumped the cold ground. But something about finding her again made him uncomfortable, a sense of mild dread clouding the happiness he felt about seeing a familiar face. Perhaps it was that bit of kinship growing in him towards the blue-eyed wolf. Lovecraft had formed attachments in his early days, all of them ill-fated. Maybe this was the cause of his conflicted feelings. 

He lowered his maw to the icy water and lapped, quenching his thirst quickly while he waited for her to respond.