Lone Star Mountain þreir

The stranger's voice elicited an immediate pause within Edith, who stopped her studying and stood at-attention, as if a handler had called to her with a proper command. There was the sound of rustling throughout the foliage of the hillside and then a snipe-nosed dog came in to view. It was less like a dog the more Edith looked upon it — but not quite a wolf, either.

She squared-off towards the figure with a wary expression plain across her face. Was this a child? It was thin in the way of a teenager, but still a beast of substance. Its coat was like shades of graphite that had been worn away over time. The subtle red mask brought images of sighthounds to her mind's eye, or maybe retrievers.

This was a wild denizen of the area, most assuredly.

Unsure of what to do, she merely stood there staring at those too-tall ears.