Sequoia Coast I got a taste for a life of dining alone

hope you don't mind me?

Zola was not one to run from her fears.

The time spent in the human crate was enough to rattle her, yes. It was enough for her to recall being washed ashore on the coast, wood broken up and herself free from relative harm. The storm had hit the vessel she had been on, throwing her overboard.

It still burned in her mind. It was something she had to face. Not the wolves that lived on the coast, she lived at Easthollow further inland. Yet she could recognize the face of another that perhaps did not want to encounter what he thought he would. She faced the man from the back, pausing in step.

She did not approach him, keeping her distance. Zola lifts her head and chuffs to him, alerting the other of her presence.