Little Goat Mountain princess peach, won't you listen to my speech

Even though Tamar's humming trailed off just before she spotted Fiadh, the Blackthorn's excellent ears had already heard it from afar. It tore her gaze away from the challenging spire ahead and onto a lovely little she-wolf. Her pelt golden like the sunset on water, crimson rays catching it all alight.

Cheers to that, love, Fiadh agreed with a friendly wave of her tail and a bright grin. Tamar seemed to know something of this place, and smelled of others to boot, even from a short distance. A nearby pack was her guess, but Fiadh had not scented them yet. Y'ever been up there? she asked in the very next breath, giving the spire another appraising look. There was a challenge dancing in her yellow eyes, a challenge for the very wilds themselves.