Greatwater Lake let sleeping dogs fry

The juvenile had heard Osprey and the closer he came, the better look she could have at him. Whenever she met strangers, she sought familiar signs in their features unknowingly, and if they had at least one, then she was more at ease to talk with them. The coat color of the young wolf was the typical brownish-black - one she had seen among her relatives now and then, although pitch-black was a more common shade. His eyes had a nice golden hue and had a bit wild, feral expression about them at first glance.

"Hello," she returned his greeting, pausing a bit while looking for the right words to say to him. Patronizing wouldn't be a good start. "Are you here alone?" Osprey decided to go for a more neutral question. Maybe he had pack members nearby.