Hoshor Plains magenta rhododendron

Intrigued, the Blackthorn shuffled a little closer and lowered reclined on her haunches. The mysterious young woman began explaining that every living thing had a spirit. Bronte was already a believer, after witnessing the brief return of her passed father. Seal's words only further confirmed it for her.

What wasn't familiar to her was a name that stood out. Pinga. She tilted her head slightly, the question in her eyes quickly explained. Pinga was also a spirit themselves. One with supposedly substantial power. She leaned in slightly, letting the gentle weight of Seal's paw rest atop her shoulder.

With a side eye peek at Matteo, she was curious of what he made of this. Bronte found herself with a growing habit of letting her eyes linger on anyone she found something to visibly like about. And she wasn't picky, either. She found that she could see the appeal, the beauty in any individual. Seal was soft with a splendid coat and captivating eyes. Matteo was dark like storm clouds. Eyes of setting sun.

Closing her eyes, she bowed her head slightly. The brush of laurel across her forehead tickled slightly, and she smiled. She wished for safety, luck and success. Not just to herself, but to every wolf here on these plains. Sucking in an audible breath, she peeked a single eye open. As if to ask if the blessing were concluded.