Big Salmon Lake voice-bearer

She was yet within sight. Still sitting tight back just a short ways within the shadows of the tree line. Her voice carried nonetheless. 

Bronte wasn't sure if the mystery wolf would take kindly to her joining his song, or continue it at all. She was pleasantly surprised when he did. She let her own voice taper off, concluding with a soft waver that eased into the coming night.

She breathed in slowly, deeply tasting the evening air as it passed through her nose. Crisp and fresh, with hints of new spring. Her ears flitted forward slightly, hearing the voice again. This time, inscribed with a distinct message. He thought her voice beautiful, this one named Fjall.

Without hesitating, she lifted her muzzle in reply. "I never realized, but thank you!" Bronte had always been modest, never thinking herself anything too special. "I am Bronte. Where are you, Fjall? I am here, just towards this small opening by the trees!"