Swiftcurrent Creek Gladfly Suite

Vys relaxed her neck, allowing her head to loll to the side, resting with a cheek smushed against a particularly moist patch of moss. She wondered how long until nightfall, as if she had anywhere to be. Perhaps a few errands to run and before settling somewhere for another sleepless night. Hearing twigs snap and critters scurrying could send any lone wolf on edge, not being able to hear those things was just terrifying. Only her sight could keep her safe. The perfect example of this was unfolding currently.

It was in this peaceful moment of cloud gazing that the girl felt herself slip slightly, just her backside. Scrambling back legs to right herself once more, Vystra grunted with exasperation as her claws eroded away at the soft bark. Finally she was back on top. The wolf looked like a pretzel, twisted in the middle, propping her front half up in an unsteady position while working on righting her bottom half next. She looked back at it, and only then found that she had an audience. The female shrieked and in haste, fell backward to take shelter behind the log. Peering around the side of it, one single eye zeroed in on the male. His posture did not seem particularly aggressive, but she was no fool. Unfortunately, she had never really learned how to speak. Instead, allowing the rest of her face to pop from behind her barricade, Vys cocked her head in question. Who are you?