Duskfire Glacier golden days.

She didn't quite answer the question, instead spinning some fancy words about a wolf he suspected was her. Or, that she wanted him to believe was her. There was every possibility that this was some fabrication designed to make him believe she was part of the pack, but his nose was not convincing him of truth. His memory was trying to, though. There was something familiar about her scent, but he was still deciding if it was one he'd picked up around the territory or elsewhere. He'd covered a lot of ground in his day.

"Why do I feel like I'll be getting myself in trouble if I say 'no'?" Ezrah mused aloud, canting his head to the side. There was still humor in his eyes and a small upward twitch of the corner of his lips. He usually avoided looking other wolves in the eye on principle, unless he was asserting dominance over them. He accepted the apparent invitation though. They were quite gold, as she'd said. But were they the gold of a packmate?