Jade Fern Grove did the stars whisper on the day you were made?

A way to approach a wild Esma is definitely not by thrashing loudly through the woods and calling her to present herself. She had heard the stranger before, but it took her a while to realize that rather than passing through and minding his own business, he would decide to pick up her trail and follow it. For a while so she let him do it, going in zig-zags and circles, making loops and attempting to get him lose her trail. Yet snow was to her disadvantage. If he could not smell her, he could still see the path she had made. 

So in the end, when the meeting was inevitable, she played her last trick. Her dappled pelt so easy to pick out against the white of winter and green of the spring and summer, melted perfectly here at the fern grove. The snow matched her white markings and the dry, brown fern bushes, along with branches of undergrowth helped her blend in the scenery. So that at a first glance she was not readily visible. 

The stranger came into a view - an odd looking wolf of a small build. He emanated friendliness and - in Esma's opinion - a level of carelessness to the dangers to lone wolves in unknown places. Ever so careful and aware about her own place on the lowest steps of this world, the young man's ignorance of it all was puzzling. Dangerous to himself even. 

"Who are you?" she asked, after a long moment of silence had passed and she had decided to engage with him. There she stepped out of her hiding place, but kept a safe distance from him and appraised the fellow with watchful gaze.