Lost Creek Hollow ánni

silvertongue had become good at remaining unseen in the deep green shadows. as the child approached, she watched. the wind brought her the scent of kvarsheim; charmed by this reminder of gunnar, she at last slipped from her position and approached the little wolf. she was quite fluffy, and somehow not wolfish, though this mattered not at all to silvertongue. "hola," she said softly, ears cupping forward. "are you lost, sweet thing?"