Lost Creek Hollow tearing into me without teeth

He smelled the blood first, and he followed it, the trail taking him to where another wolf sat. She wasn't familiar to him but he was not sure of many in the Hollow. He was slow to learn, and liked to do it at his own pace. There were a good many of them.

Are you hurt? he asked, softly, forgetting introductions or really any kind of formalities to his more urgent curiosity. It didn't occur to him that materializing from the lengthening shadows with no announcement or warning might startle her. At least he was as unassuming as always in demeanor.