Lion Head Mesa forswear it, sight

A voice with the faintest trace of an accent drew her eyes sharply up and caused her song to die within her throat—surprise flickered across the gentle features of the earthen coywolf at the unannounced presence of the other.

When glacier eyes traced the woman, she noted the beauty—the grace. Heat flamed her cheeks when her eyes settled upon a place a limb should have been—and startled, she looked back to the she-wolf’s eyes, hoping she hadn’t been caught…. Noticing.

“I…” A soft flutter of her lashes and a nervous laugh escaped her. “Forgive me, I wasn’t expecting an audience. You’re too kind with your words, though.”

A subtle dip of herself—the silverkissed wolf might not have been known, but the easy posture lacked the certain haughty expectation of nobility. “I’m Nasima.”