Whitebark Stream food nor memory

The gentle gesture was far from expected, leaving Adanya with partially widened eyes, taking in the shifting form. She honestly felt a little ashamed for judging  the character of a wolf completely foreign to her, throwing baseless assumptions around her head based purely off of the creatures looks. It wasn't fair to them, and it was well below her manners. The tilted head previously offered was sweet in its own right, and the understanding of her words, or at least, the decent guess, was more than she'd ever received before now from a wanderer.

You startled me,
She approached the stranger at a steady pace, breathing short uneasy breaths with every stride. Her eyes fused to the scar that split the wolf's muzzle, refusing to pull away to anywhere else. Adanya eased to a halt just beside them, still keeping a fair distance despite wishing to run as far away as possible, her gaze shifting up to the other's eyes just as another pitiful excuse rolled from her mouth. You are very quiet...

She spoke almost apologetically, as if trying to express her guilt for staring without directly admitting to it. Still, she couldn't help glancing back to it, lured again to the gnarled visage with every eerie whistle drawn through the gash. A solemn song conducted by the wind and a set of sharpened canines, it's tune dreadfully haunting, yet all the more intriguing.