Bramblepoint when the cold wind is a'calling

Arnarkla had failed to notice Cole until he was joining her flank—too lost in her reverie to have clocked him. A soft oh was made at his appearance, more of a dazed sigh than proper vocalization. Her affronted paw was held for him to doctor while her head was canted out of his way. When the thorn was extracted, a scarlet bead replaced it. 

Takk, she said. 

She had taken to lapping at the paw. Each swipe of her tongue made a new spot of blood blossom, gradually becoming smaller and smaller. 

Her right ear lamely flicked at the arrival of another. Cole spoke while she continued to mind her paw. The she-wolf spoke easily before two strangers, even offered to assist as Cole had. The thorn seemed to have made an undesired spotlight settle upon the dark wolf. 

It's alright. She set the paw on the ground to stabilize her own ease. A small nod toward Cole was made. He got it.