Ankyra Sound five twenty six, nineteen ninety.

The wolf gave no signs of aggression. He let his paw sink back down in the snow, but never did he drop his wariness. Only his gaze — momentarily, to observe how the other touched his stomach. He pointed his slender muzzle ahead then, as if deciding whether to stay or go.

I believe I heard you say it was a creepy girl. Sorcerer turned toward the wolf, and chanced drawing a bit closer. This one was only young he noted, but there was a sober and ruminative mien about him that seemed out of place for his age.

Should I be concerned? What made her so?