Phoenix Maplewood maybe I can drown

Imaq jumps just a little bit when he calls her attention to him, not expecting company in the wood scarred by the memory of flames -- especially in the midst of this winter. But the weather has been fairer in the past day or so and some wolves have the wanderlust, even if suffering from a sizeable wound apparently. The shepherd drops back onto all fours, turning to face the man -- whom she found as curious looking as he did her. 

Imaq was far more familiar with her father's kind -- having never before seen any other dogs or wolfdogs like herself -- but even so, the shaman had likewise never seen a wolf of his exact coloring in times past. The man was of a scale to the others she had met in the Wilds, though he was taller than her yearling friend and broader than Taikon. But it was his fevercoat pelt that she found most fascinating, its shading like a clash of silver lilacs and the abyssal navy of oceanic depths -- or the night sky perhaps with the stardust spackling that dashed his spine. 

Seelie dipped her head lower instinctively, in spite of the fact that he was already much taller than the halfbreed, as a soft chirrup of greeting escaped her in return -- hind quarters tremoring occasionally in what might've been a wag had the aureate cur possessed a tail. She hoped he was friendly to dogs, ears pressing slightly as his brow furrowed but the expression was confounded -- not aggressive. 

"Food," the northron explained, glancing back at the tree for a moment. Her articulation had improved during her stint in Blackfeather Woods but her accent was heavy, her grace with the language still lacking in finesse. "Is good."

"Imaq," she introduced herself then as she turned back to the silvered tundrian, neptunian gaze meeting verglas for a heartbeat before she dipped her head towards her small paws. "You?" she asked, stepping toward him on two slow steps to sniff at the scent of him -- not wanting to offend him by encroaching on his personal space. Smelling the rust-salt of his wound, she frowned with a hint of concern. 

"Hurt?" she murmured with a cock of her head, floppy ears perking just a tad as she waited for his answer. 

explanation cause I thought this was rlly cool: 'fever coat' is the term given when a cat or other animal gives birth to silver young that go through various coat transitions during their life, whether they lighten or darken. I found that out when searching for a name for Winterbanes' coat color and thought it was pretty neat.