Blackbeak Bluff 'YOU'RE GOOD. YOU'RE WORTH LOVING.

Those sunbeam eyes looked her over, now that she wasn't as scared (he hoped). Scars lined her body, though from what, he didn't know. Maybe one of the isle-wolves could check them out and see if anything would heal them? It had taken forever for him to get accepted into the pack, and he did his best with hunting and fishing and pup-sitting to make up for his lack of packly experience. But he wasn't as much a healer as he felt a prickly patch in the sand. 

My name's Hviske, he pronounced it viss-ka, softly. His mother's silent whisper in the forest winds. Elspeth's own eyes, she kept from him, but the glimpse he had gotten gave him the impression of wildflowers and honey. Along with that, her coat was as if sunlight had passed through amber and the forest gave it life. 

Are you... from around here? I've... never scented you, at least-