Duskfire Glacier and the prey always believe

The shaman stopped upon hearing the patter of soft footfalls behind her, the whispering bark that pierced the air soon proving to belong to a lithe wolfess, somewhat lean and spindly -- perhaps with a harsher lifestyle or with youth, it was hard to tell for there was a certain age to the girl's whiskey gaze. Her coat of woodland agouti was somewhat non-assuming but nonetheless lovely, the bird-boned girl reminiscent of a sparrow or wren. 

The confection of buttercream and mocha inclined her golden diadem to the she-wolf, catching a whiff of Iana's scent on the stranger that put her at ease. The woman had seemed far too calm to be an intruder, but one could never be too certain and the huntress took her chief's assignment of protecting the borders very seriously.

"Hello," Imaq murmured with a polite smile, tailless rump wagging regardless in welcome.