Redsand Canyon better than to let it fester

Her eyelids lifted to let a pair of hazel eyes glare at the intruder. A wolf. What else would it be? But, the time spent among their kind made the details of their appearance more discernible.

This one was a chick, although by the scent of age the word hen seemed more fitting. A wispy creature, pale and grey, not likely related by blood to anyone else she'd met in Mereo, at least not immediately.

Was she even a part of the pack? Diesel's head lifted. She didn't really pay attention to coming and goings of others, still not grasping the way a pack functioned and what part she had to play in one. The dog sized up the she-wolf again, this time to determine if she was a threat to her.

Old as balls and thin as hell. Nope, definitely not.

Her head went back to the ground, wrinkles pooling about her muzzle and eyes closing. "Who wants to know?" Came the gruff reply.