Otatso Wetlands There once was a bittersweet man

The older wolf is mindful in his approach, but Leonore does not yet understand the concept of personal space; she is quick to close the gap beyween them.

Leonore. She responds, eyes flicking up to his face while her nose nears his shoulder. The girl is eager to pick up his scent, to see where he has been. That much is obvious from her wagging tail.

Limited contact with wolves outside of her birth pack has left her bright-eyed and a bit touchy, but there is no better teacher than life itself.

Did you come from a pack? She asks, straightening herself up. I just left mine. The girl states this with clear pride; the weight of it has not yet hit her.