Witch's Marsh triangle

No one spoke. Druid arched an eyebrow slightly, her eyes boring into the side of Glaukos’s face. It didn’t seem an introduction was forthcoming, so she turned toward the scented stranger, lips parting. They pressed together when the she-wolf sniffed toward her. Druid instinctively reached back, swallowing past the red to suss out other details about her.

Pulling back a few inches, she shot another glance at Glaukos, shook her head slightly and said, Well, in case he hasn’t gotten around to mentioning it yet, this is Glaukos, she said, oblivious to their prior familiarity as she continued, and I’m Druid. We’re from Rivenwood.

Her gaze rested inquisitively on those pale features, her eyes asking, Who are you? Where are you from? What do you want? Well, besides the obvious. The corner of Druid’s mouth pulled upward, the sway of her tail hopefully brushing aside any of the tension between the three of them.