Greatwater Lake a sedge of cranes

thanks for joining! (sorry she's a butthead)

Too busy gloating in her own mind, the gamine flinched at the voice of another. Her muzzle snapped in their direction, lip curled. The rest of her narrow form tensed to cage the snarl in her throat.

She was looking at a she-wolf, one of stone under snowfall. Scuffed. Weathered. Beautiful. The other’s posture didn’t appear threatening. Neither had her words, now that she thought about it.

Needle’s hackles started to lie flat again, but those boneyellow eyes narrowed in suspicion. Well, you’ll have a fight on your paws if you want to try and take it. A threat before a grimace of untested fangs, still white in their newness. Flattery won’t get you a piece, either.