Swiftcurrent Creek you left the light on

Lethe had never been a wolf gripped by power – her more youthful years and contained a thirst for knowledge and men, and now, as the small red wolf moved forward to greet her as one would a superior, the she-wolf maintained an aloof posture, despite the foreign emotion of pride that swept through her chest.

A crooning growl escaped her then, and her muzzle tipped down a bit, aiming to grip the yearling’s red muzzle ever so gently in her jaws before releasing her – a sign of dominance and acceptance to the youth. “Lethe,” she finally announced before taking a pace back, allowing the space between them to become one of a comfortable nature. Her eyes roved the other for a moment, noting the intricate fur that weaved her pelt and offered a canvas of fire to the world. “Tell me about yourself, Fox,” she coaxed, her muzzle giving a nod to the other as she began to walk, indicating she should be followed.