Silver Moraine field and fountain, moor and mountain

A voice called out to her from below - not one Moorhen recognized, and therefore, not of great interest to the irascible shewolf. Still, there'd been a strange instinct growing in her, of late, and the helplessness in the voice tugged at heartstrings she'd not possessed a scant few months ago. After debating with herself for a moment, she answered with a short, querying bark.

Her ruddy gaze swept over the moraine and soon fell on a moving, wolf-shaped snow creature. Her ears fanned back uncertainly, but she still deigned to wait for the other to come toward her - no way she was going to try and meet the strange creature on its own ground.