Swiftcurrent Creek When my hands don't play the strings the same way.

Although Paar did not press the subject of the other wolfess' hostility, she could not deny that she was curious. She was a gentle creature, one who often reached out in attempt to comfort, a solid shoulder to lean on as well as a sympathetic ear. But this time, beneath the weight of her own grief and heartache, the crimson Frostfur did not attempt to soothe whatever pain this newcomer seemed to be burdened by. Instead she withdrew from it, like a turtle seeking the solace of her shell.

The topic moved on, however, and the ashen she-wolf offered her name. Paarthurnax dipped her pale muzzle politely and respectfully to her comrade, though she blinked her warm copper eyes upward to linger on Eclipsis' fine features as she question the due date of her litter. "Any day," she said, a small smile blossoming on her lovely features. "I suspect it shall be sooner rather than later."