Blackfeather Woods waiting for something or someone to show you the way

The pale child had long ago given up on being sneaky in any way. She knew that she was not built for such things. She had yet to discover what she was built for, but she knew that it would come to her some day. At six months of age the ghost stood at a height that resembled the parents she was borne from, though her form remained lanky and clearly not yet fully grown. Time would tell how much growing up would help shape her into an adult.

Large ears cupped forward when she saw another white shape. Upon closer inspection it was not fully white; eyes were mismatched, noticeable by contrast, though from afar the white shadow could not tell what colours they were. Feet were socked by grey that could have been dirt had it not been so similarly shaped, and had toes not been white. The pale child's eyes were caught by the right front paw, which looked... different. Wrong, on first thought, but perhaps it required further inspection to know for sure, as the pale child did not know why she thought it -- why her instincts thought it -- wrong.

A chuff was uttered and with a wave of her tail the pale child approached. She had been utterly bored anyway; time for some fun. Hopefully this new wolf to this family could provide it.