Wapun Meadow tiptoe

Irene’s ears perked slightly at the woman's voice, the lisped observation breaking through the quiet of the meadow. She shifted her weight subtly, her posture remaining relaxed yet watchful. Her emerald eyes trailed over the speaker, taking in the faintly vain tilt of her head and the sharpness of her gaze.  

She offered a small, knowing smile, her voice soft but tinged with amusement. Rabbits tend to like places like this. Safe. Open. Makes it easy for them to get away Her gaze swept the meadow briefly, noting the fluttering grasses and distant clusters of wildflowers before returning to the woman. Though I imagine they wouldn’t linger if they knew wolves like us roamed here. 

Irene tilted her head slightly, a strand of her dark fur catching the faint light. You seem like you know this place well, she added, her tone polite but probing. She wasn’t one to assume a stranger’s intentions without reason, but she also wasn’t naïve enough to trust blindly.