Whitebark Stream mulberry

k'edghildza’s ear flicked toward the soft crunch of snow, her gaze shifting from the caribou to the wolfdog approaching with cautious intent. ridgeback, she recalled, though his name still sat unfamiliar on her tongue. his posture was wary, tail signaling curiosity but tempered by restraint.

she offered him a measured smile, her tail swaying once in a gesture of calm reassurance.

you’ve no reason to be frightened, she murmured, her voice low and steady, though her eyes remained sharp, watchful of his movements. i do not bite.

she turned her gaze back to the herd, their movements slow and unbothered, a stark contrast to the tension radiating from the wolfdog.

they are at peace. she continued, gesturing lightly with her muzzle toward the caribou. you could be, too.

her tone carried no judgment, only quiet observation, an invitation for him to settle and share in the stillness of the moment if he wished.