Chimera Fields you expose the film in me

Oh!

He lumbers towards her, silhouetted by the pastel halo of sunrise.  Mirabelle is both surprised and relieved that she had not been hallucinating the man of her memory.

Etoille, she counters, turning the seeping flesh of her hip away from his prying gaze, I am fine.  She leans into his muzzle before he turns away and she studies the lilting tones of his native tongue, remiss that she could not understand.

I fell, she explained, I was scaling over the Wall during a light rain and lost my footing.  I am fine, really.  Mirabelle takes the time to smell him and notices the changes.

Did you find someone? A pack?