Whitefish River Lost in reverie until I saw her fading silhouette.

"[size=small]Honorable Lady Pukington [/size]!" Dwin exclaimed inadvertently, when she recognized the face. It was the nickname she had given to the angry, grumpy person, but never called out loud. She no longer remembered the details of the argument or, why she knew that she did not like the person too much. But - this was handy for a second chance. Maybe they could become friends?

That is, if the lady had just as bad memory about the circumstances of their meeting as Dwin did. "How are you?" she went on, as if nothing had ever happened and they were - in fact - two old acquaintances that had met each other by chance. "And who is that little critter?" she asked, spotting a mouse-like creature burried itself in the she-wolf's fur.