Blackfoot Forest Flykte

It was unexpected to see one of their kind in the new land.

Eventyr stopped in her tracks, one paw lifted in preparation to run. The pale wolf had run before, in the face of much worse. Escaping one of them would not be a difficult task when her legs were long and strong, and her will was unstoppable. Her moon silver gaze darted from the dark Svartravn wolf to their surroundings. When there was one of the dark-furred, there were bound to be more. Eventyr tasted the air with a sniff that filled her lungs.

You are far from home, dark one. Their native tongue fluttered easily from her mouth. It was a test – how deep did prejudice lie with this Svartravn? Eventyr did not seem shaken. She stood like a pale, fearless ghost. Her long snout was lifted, almost proud against the dark wood of the forest.