Ghost Lion Crag for the trees that we see cannot forever breathe, with the changes they will confront

In that strange quiet a light tread commenced, ending the almost unendurable silence. Weejay lifted her gaze to see a specter approach — instinctively she pressed to the dappled-shadows, for the wolf that approached was like no wolf she had ever seen. 

It was too late to remain undetected; Weejay met the copper eye with a flinching blink, unsure of the limber man and his stilt-like, feathery appearance. His countenance seemed friendly, but unlike the other strangers Weejay had met, he was much older and male to boot. Holding close to the trunk Weejay felt her frame shiver, eyes latched with some shade of apprehension in the beast that gradually lurked closer.