Bitterroot Valley footloose and fancy free

Somehow Ico had it in his head that there would be wolves down South but not before. So it was with some alarm that he sensed a nearby presence, and more alarm still at quite what a presence she had.

This was a great white mountain of a wolf — just not in bulk. She was petite, even more so than Ico, but without his meagre nature. On floated this vision of condensed fog, and she spoke exactly how she looked.

The boy's sore paw still hovered, a little foolishly, and he ducked his head in recognition of this — and because he was impressed by the stranger's very existence. "Oh, erm... only a little. I'm just making a fuss", he explained apologetically. Ico tore his gaze away from the whiter wolf to finally look closely at his paw pad. "I stood on something sharp. Just not entirely sure what."

Though he did suddenly notice that the pointy, stuck fragment had a strange little glimmer to it.