Whitebark Stream honey and the moon

Met by a rather pretty she-wolf, Meadow folded herself down further—lean form brushing closer to the ground in submission, despite the kind words she was met with. Her bright eyes skimmed to the Stream wolf’s flank, not looking toward her eyes. “Oh,” she murmured, about to answer when a barking howl cut her off.

Her ears flattened to her skull as the howl came closer, revealing a tiny, dark pup that looked too young to be so close to the borders.

Despite how endearing he seemed, Meadow now looked to her own silver paws, hoping to appear as unthreatening as possible, despite the kindness that was bestowed upon her thus far. “I was hoping to learn more about your pack, and if there was room for another? I’m an aspiring medic myself.”