Porcupine Ridge threshold

The skeletal coywolf lowered her head as another peal thundered overhead -- and in the distance she watched a purple flare ignite across the meridian and in an instant the world was swallowed once more in unremitting darkness. She squinted, her eyes strained on the horizon where the last remaining light had baptized the entire world in a final fit of illuminating white.

The male proffered a name, a name that sounded to be of similar origin in tongue as a coywolf Caiaphas now only dimly recollected -- what language was it she spoke again? Caiaphas rolled the name over in her mind, her expression dark and ruminating.

Meanwhile, the only sound between them was the steady rise of their breath and the drumming fall of rain.

Eventually she spoke again, though this time her voice seemed only a half-venture -- so beguilingly timid it seemed. "What were you doing before the storm?" From the looks of it, Caiaphas could surmise the able-bodied and agile male was alone -- and a brief foray of her nose lead her to believe the male had no recent affiliations.