Heron Lake Plateau I guess I keep a-gamblin'

Raleska's head remained pressed to the rough bough, her expression fixed in attentiveness. Whatever denizen existed beneath the aegis of the tree's surface had been silenced. The girl's face scrunched up in an expression of confusion, but before she had time to shake the tree or dig in its hollows further she caught a flash of silver in her peripherals.

Straightening up rather abruptly, her ears swept back and she returned the boy's warm smile with a suspicious scowl. He was not Illidan or Ephraim or Rhakios or even Svalinn; Raleska held little warmth in her heart for strangers, given how coldly they had treated her. She still remembered being turned callously away, and still recalled how disconsolate despair had settled deep in the expression of her stalwart parents to be turned away from Easthollow.

She felt her fur prickle and her tail rise and did not stop it. With a mighty scowl leveled in poor Cinder's direction, Raleska asked accusingly: "who you?"