Phantom Hollow the fogs of london

Natshana walked into the fog willingly (should that decision be a precursor to her death, so be it).  She noted the accent that the other wolf held and the word that she said that sounded strange to her ears.  Though she spoke with an accent herself, Natshana's was much different than the ghostly stranger's.  They talked in similar and different tongues, and that privately piqued her interest.

"I do not find guilt to be very useful," she replied with a half-smile. As her companion continued, she couldn't help but chuckle - a sound that was generally merry while also genuinely amused. "Will you tell my mentor that you believe I have a clear mind?  They may disagree, but it would serve me well." Her pale eyes glittered more like starlight than the moon they embodied. 

"I hope I am not intruding, then," Natshana persisted. "Perhaps you would like some company for a while."