There is a certain way to go about life, and many find they cannot handle such a thing. I tend to throw a lot of dazzling grins and veneer smiles at every creature I come in contact with, bright reflective irises darting to and fro over the crowds as if they truly meant something to me. They don't, you see, for I am all that can possibly matter to myself, and this being my creed and oath to myself; I will wrap it around my luxurious form and be on with the day's business before you can think to blink. I tilt my head at the lasses, and laugh at their pitiful attempts at humor, but there is not one face I care to truly commit to memory. I have not seen any true being worth departing with carefully chosen phrases and comments for, or perhaps these brilliant windows to my soul have skipped over a select few who could have been. I cannot lower my standards here, I am important to me, and since the world very literally revolves around one being, I should find myself at an utter loss for entertainment.
It dawns on me then, that perhaps I am taking my entrance into this new realm a bit too seriously, and if I am to learn anything at all from the common heathens then I will be forced to converse with at least one of them. I am nothing if not an inquisitive imp, and I daresay I shall have to calm the rising storm within my bloodstream if I am to have any luck at all finding a suitable home for myself here. But, that little aspect of my life will have to wait. I am not in any pressing need for shelter, nor do I need any sort of wolf telling me what to do all the time. I should rather like being in my own company, though that tugging want for some sort of interaction with my own kind is raising its pretty head again. I lower my black-masked face and let my nose do some of its natural work for me, inhaling the scents of passerby and commoners. No particular trail seems to be of any immediate threat, though there are few who can match my skill should they decide to try. Yes, I am inexplicably full of myself and unreasonably stubborn about the type that I hang around, but I find that sometimes you have to be assured of your own capabilities. You must know what you can do in order to survive out here, otherwise you will always be reaching far too high or way too low.
When learning to live on my own, I often went through the lessons my mother gave me, relying on the information my father saw fit to bestow upon my young impressionable mind. I thought through scenarios before they even came up, and worked out every possible outcome, always thinking. I prepare for the worst, though I can honestly say I am well and truly hoping for the best. You would think that a female such as myself would be less egotistical, that a thinking wolf would understand she is not all that she thinks she is. Well, I believe I can let you in on a secret of mine. I know - and have proven - that I am all that I say I am. If I wasn't then why would I say I am? Some wolves fake it, say they have game, claim they rule the world. Others, like me, actually mean what they say, and back up their claims with real and tangible proof. Somewhere along my silent musings, I get distracted. Movement makes the bright pink of my eyes lift, searching for the cause of my loss of focus. Had my thoughts at the time been truly important - rather than the idle prattle of before - I would be rather upset with this creature, but as it stands, I was not thinking on matters of any sort of special hype.
Living within the woodlands are creatures only a few would dare to challenge. Great cats with claws that slice through flesh with such a clean cut it makes me jealous, bears who would sooner rip you apart than to share anything with a wolf - even space. There are your more harmless creatures: squirrels, martins, deer, birds - just to name a few - and you simply don't worry about these. Deer are stupid and easily frightened off, the squirrels are much the same ( though their scratching alarms are rather annoying.) Martins are quick little beasts and are often playful, though they can outwit your average hunter. I have made meals out of the smaller ones, prey items that one would expect a female to feast upon. Quail, duck, deer, boar, bear, all the nice meats. And even one of my reputation has a need to get dirty sometimes. So come on out, if you dare. I need conversation, and I would very much like to prove myself wrong about the wolves of this land.
”Speaking” Thinking 
