Fox's Glade Warspeak

She could taste the woman's apprehension. She remained frozen to the spot and Ameline had to wonder if she would be recognized. She'd been little more than a scrappy teenager when she had joined the hunt, lanky and skinny still from being orphaned. The white wolf also looked to be in better health. She hadn't wanted the fight which had been brought to her pack's territory-  she had fled. Ameline might have judged her for it, a year ago, when she had still been a weapon, training to defend a pack that she thought she could die for. But then- she had run, too, eventually. And it had been one of the best decisions she had ever made. 

She told herself they were more alike than she'd thought. It helped her temper the urge to kill the woman just for the rise of it. 

She came to a stop, and regarded the woman calmly, though there was something owlish about her gaze. She shook her neck, trying to loosen up the muscles and convince the bristling fur to settle; she didn't want conflict. Not when this wolf was one of her neighbours. 

"I recognithe you," She said carefully. "But we both left whatevuh it wath that we wuh a part of before. Tho...Maybe we jutht forget about all that." She said, with a slight shrug of her shoulder.