The Heartwood nanukigun

Two wolves came when called. First there was a pale one, a woman, and she sized up Tulukiri and Lestan with the same scrutiny as the travelers passed to her; before much could be said, the second arrived - a creature patchworked by wounds, almost the woman's pure opposite: bigger, meaner, and darker.

He spewed threats where the woman before had been almost amicable, and questioning. Tulukiri felt her body stiffen with concern and she side-stepped to be closer to Lestan, who had already stepped ahead of her - turning so she was squarely facing the surly man.

C'mon, lets go. She murmured for Lestan, but wouldn't take her eyes off either stranger. The black wolf with the scars had to have earned those wounds somehow, and still lived. Those scars were a warning of their own.