precious and fragile things

A light gust of wind blew against the she-wolf's fur, and she was relieved, the air ruffling her pelt was a nice refreshment. Although autumn had slowly sunken in, the air was still warm with a blazing sun filling the skies most days. While Falwasi had been considering the weather, the arctic had tilted his head as he answered the question she had posed. 'From the North. A wolf of the Tuq,' he responded, gesturing with the point of his nose in the mentioned direction. That explained his thick coat and his robust figure. 'And you?' he asked the sprightly wolf.

'Eagle Mountain, far East of here. About a month's journey.' she answered in a mild voice. The exchange of pasts led her to think about her old pack and how they were doing. She prayed they were all safe, that the numbers were constant if not growing. The attacks that had happened in the woods had not made their pack the most attractive choice. No matter how they were doing, at least they had the amusement of the weather. At this time of year, her home would be affected by wide temperature swings in short periods of time. Falwasi had always enjoyed the variety of conditions; she never grew tired of one in particular.