with a graveyard tan carrying a cross

The more the male spoke the more evident it became that he knew a vast amount more than she did about the region. She darted between two tall fern fronds, an ear flicked back as she received his words. It was painfully aware to her that he was a far nicer wolf than she was -- wearily, she resigned to playing the role of affable passerby.

She stopped at a peculiar and smooth rock that rose from the thick lichen like a supplicant to some hidden shrine -- instinctively she placed her paw on it and relished the cold wetness its surface provided. "And which of those two do you belong to? The Spine? The Plateau? What are these things?" She called out in inquiry, now a slight distance away as she ruminated through the dark and damp forest floor. "Forgive my ignorance, I am not from this region." She added in afterthought between heaves, digging around in the dirt as if looking for a special token.