Blacktail Deer Plateau no nuns. no nuns, none!

jawahir lingered in the periphery of the wolf-scent, keenly aware of it; equally so, knowledgable on how to traverse across it without detection. there were weak points to be exploited.
it was a fine place to build a home, they thought. a typical haven to the mighty wolf. they were here to investigate the area and ascertain if there were men to build a deal with (or women, if there were such appetites to feed). instead, the wandering jewel found something else.

a hovel; well hidden and yet, not well enough. inside was the spice-scent of the wolf, the sweetness of milk and meat. jawahir paused among the darkwood's flora, watching.
a nose poked out in to the light. soon after, a shape — not quite big enough to be a threat on their own, but small enough to make jawahir nervous; a bubbling of excited energies.

they would make themselves smaller. lay on their belly and shuffle closer, only to stop and watch the darkling child.
hello there, little one.

behind jawahir the tuft of their tail wriggled, settling across the dirt. they kept their chin upon their crossed paws, as if they had been sleeping there for some time, but large dark eyes kept watch.
did you enjoy your sleep?