Here between them now that is nothing but a newness. He does not realize yet just how pathetic a creature she is. Maybe he suspects by the way she has cowered against the wall, the way her stomach rumbles and the sad way she speaks, edged with tension. Fjallraven is a tiny female to be sure but she has the look of an adult excepting the way her bones jut out at sharp angles. A little bit of meat has softened the harsh lines so she only looks slightly as if she has been sick recently rather than just skin and bones. As if she has not been wandering the wilderness in that perpetual state of loss after her mother disappeared and she had been left to fend for herself. What a mess she had made of that too, on the verge of collapse before Reich had happened upon her. Maybe somewhere her mother was smiling down at her. Maybe her mother had gifted her Reich and yet that kind of wolf wouldn't fit with anyone elses memory of her mother, a cruel and condescending female.

As her belly rumbles the male makes a sudden movement which causes Fjallraven to stand up in a flash, tail pressed to the inside of her legs and ears flat as she stands with her breath gasping and heart racing. For a moment she had thought he was going to come after her. Jericho could easily rip out her throat. He could crush her beneath his mighty paw and she would cry, weep, and die. Fighting might be an over-exaggeration to what kind of struggle she would put up.

She finally realizes that her stomach startled him and that he is as nervous as she is by the way he clears his throat. Fjallraven cannot help it, the dazzling smile that suddenly takes her maw in humor and the way her tail tentatively sweeps side to side around her paws. It might be hard to judge him on his scars considering if she moved just so then one could glimpse the scars that mar her hips betwixt her dark gray hairs and it is certain Fjallraven is no evil creature.

Who was he looking for? She didn't know many wolves so she didn't honestly think she could help and yet he offers his own and her eyes brighten at his proposal. "You can help me? Oh thank you!" There is such innocence in her voice and maybe Jericho will earn her adoration like Reich had with his kindness. "I like your name," she says honestly, still rather awkward with such conversation and it seems a fitting thing to say because she does like it. It inspires nothing in her but she finds herself attaching kindness to his name, her tail still brushing across her legs and a beatific smile upon her slender muzzle.

Jericho seems so nervous and it eases her own nerves. He was almost just like her except he could hunt and probably fight. She couldn't be trusted to find water, sadly, and it was beyond time for her to learn. Yet today's deplorable happenings made her almost disgruntled with the idea of learning. As the male starts towards the entrance she follows behind him, a shadow but not quite silent for she does not know how to stop her claws from scraping the rock or her pads from rubbing. Fjallraven was never taught any arts of silence and stealth, that is why her mother always left her behind while she hunted.

"How can you find anything at night?" There is an honest urgency to her question and her smaller figure sticks close to his hips, ears spinning and eyes flashing to everything around her. "Aren't all the animals asleep now?"