Hideaway Strath Long Live The Queen!

edit for the extra wolf that showed up as I was posting :)

A melodic and deep beautiful song filled the crisp air of the strath a voice that was curl her tail and warm her deep down to her bones, to this voice she would come. Oh yes she would come.

She turned toward the source of the sound, only slightly disheartened by the fact she knew others would be there. As long as she got to see the grandmaster without that white mutt at his side she’d be happy enough though. She’d not hang around to long if that bitch were there though her teeth itched at the thought of staining her white fur red, that was until she saw the wolf beside the grandmaster. All thoughts of killing a white wolf fled as she looked over the imposing form of Nyra as she towered over even Kynareth Deagon of the Abbey.  The black femme passed by the three wolves that were largely unknown to her, they were pack that she knew, but little else. Not even their names though she thought the black one might be called Hemlocke due to her conversation with Derg and the white wolf that wore death on her face might have been referred to as Dove if her memory served her from the night in the caves.

Whrist moved closer to the grandmaster and to Nyra and bumped her head first on his shoulder in greeting, then she moved to Nyra and bumped her head on the white brutes shoulder before sitting between the pair. “That did not sound like a call to arms, But I’m ready for anything”

Whrist grinned she half wondered if either would stare her down and ask for more space she’d give it freely mind you but for the moment she wanted to bathe in their presence and their scents