Stone Circle Nobody helped, but you was right to be mad and cry

Sightings of the amber cub had been sparse. So much so she’d believed the girl had moved on. She’d only known her from the distance she kept with the rest of the pack.

So cresting a gusty hillock she is surprised to come upon the scarlet silhouette among their ranks still. With silver eyes she watches curiously for a long moment before deciding to snout her way through the veld, uttering an amiable little note as she nears.

Her face; she looks so much like Bjarna with those strange folds and heavy brow that looked like a struggle to keep from dipping over weary eyes. Surely this is no coincidence.

“Hello,” she offers in hush, as if anything stronger might startle her.