Whitefish River i can see a dog, i can see a frog

Her arm found the subtle curve of hip, and Chandra was comforted by this. The form of wolf was one known to her, from her memories of sight and also from the careful mapping of the bodies of her kin with sightless touch, and she knew now where she stood relative to Galena. She moved carefully upward, lowering her nose to brush it softly through the other wolf's fur as she righted herself so that they were parallel. The feel of coarser hair as she tilted her head upward told her the other wolf's topside began there, identifying Galena as the taller of the two. Otherwise, not much could be said of her appearance, not by the blind anyway. The woman cooed a response, with an odd inflection that made Chandra's brows tilt toward her nose in contemplation.

She was spared the awkwardness of asking about it, for suddenly there was a soft touch on her cheek. Her breath hitched for a moment, then fell quietly from her nostrils, as she accepted this form of comfort. Touch was Chandra's only indication of intent; the sharp sting of a wolf's weaponry cutting into her hide would bid her flee, but Chandra could not flee anymore than she could fight. Not yet, anyway; a blind wolf running was like to be a death sentence. Thankfully, the touch had not been the deadly kiss of incisors, but rather, the brush of a nose tip; friend, it said.

I hope I haven't interrupted you, she said good-naturedly, taking a moment to draw her hind limbs toward her and collapse into a seated posture. Whilst sitting, Chandra was more or less safe, when in the company of another wolf. She could not walk off a cliff or find herself in the jaws of an upwind predator so long as she wasn't moving. The act gave Galena the unspoken option of remaining in physical contact or not. Surely, if she chose to leave, Chandra would have to accept that as well, but being sociable and irreversibly reliant on others, she hoped that would not be the case.