Storm Watch Butte A little party never killed nobody.

verapaz's ranks ebbed and waned with time—yet fiamma remained. she did not know what kept her locked into this place and these wolves. only that she found a delightful puzzle in the enigmatic soto, and a potential paramour in silver-tongued osiel.

it was the former she trailed today, though at a distance. his scent cut upward, out of the basin, and she followed it idly. the erstwhile princess was examining a sunbathing lizard when a howl burst through the air, startling the creature into the shadows and sending her hackles up. it was soto's—and the sound came from verapaz's hearth.

from a distance, fiamma observed him in conversation with a well-muscled woman, her brawny figure cloaked in shades of fire and coals. a young man, too, paler than the others. she saw the woman lift her muzzle and call out, too—an earsplitting noise.

intrigued, she slipped up the makeshift staircase and met them with a chuff, turning her silver eyes to the she-wolf in query.

welcome. i am fiamma, she introduced herself with a pleasant smile. she cast a sidelong glance at soto, one ear tilting to catch his reply. chi? fiamma asked, nodding toward the strangers.