Thunder Dome twai

There was silence for what felt like, a good long while. The truth was, Edith had become frozen in place, and her ears filled with the sound of branches caught in wind; the feeling of her heart racing; the want for those ravens to come back, so she wouldn't have to face this unknown.

The dog that emerged was at least twice her size. There was more than largesse, there was silence, there was composure, confidence; he moved almost soundlessly. Edith found herself struggling to decode his body language - and blamed the shock of watching this shadow emerge before her eyes.

The collar around her neck suddenly felt like a vice.

I was curious. The answer flowed from her, not accustomed to being guarded around her own people; but this wasn't one of her own. Nervousness flickers through her body and she confronts the sensation by drawing closer, wanting to study it — him? Him.

There wasn't a mark on him, none that she could see. No ornamentation. No scent of burning rubber, processed food, or sweat. Something earthy, a mineral terroir. I'm not from around here.

Obviously.