Whitefish River The Great Thorn

The contemplation of the wound only lasted a short while, as a thankful distraction made itself present. The tell-tale chords of a wolf graced her ears, but as bi-colored eyes turned to address the called, they were surprised by the kind of bodice they beheld. A wolf with bent ears? She had never seen that likeness, and immediately she concluded that this wolf suffered from a defect of some kind. Even the muzzle itself was more stout than lean. The width inching by fractions but to a noticeable degree. It was interesting how vast the appearance of their kind tended to be... Carefully she lowered her paw as the other walked closer, being mindful of her wound even though she could not see it. Though social graces tended to be lacking, she pardoned herself from her usual distance and offered a subtle dip of her head in greeting.