Sun Mote Copse birdsong

Merel could not help but quirk a smile at the younger wolf. Though Merel did not fully match her initial enthusiasm, her hazel eyes glittered brightly. Genuine warmth--a rare thing for her, at times.

I'm Merel the Blackbird, she replied with a hint of amusement. But you can just call me Merel.

She swished her tail slowly, watching the golden-furred yearling. Foxglove reminded her a little of one of her sisters. (Even now, she sought them out in strangers' faces.)

It's good to meet you properly. I suppose we'll be doing a lot of Summerwalking together, now. ...Not that I'm much of an expert, Merel continued. Her smile crinkled at the corners of her eyes.