she is ever moving, even into the night, crisscrossing, sparing time to catch a morsel of vole and (nearer to the murky swamp) even a muskrat. she has energy unending, it would seem, the way she makes swift work of enocra and it’s hidden depths. it is a densely wooded area compared to what she is used to, filled with so many more smells than she initially could have even guessed at. teal iridescent eyes admire it as she moves, but what she does not see, does not smell, does not realize until too late is that she is not the only wolf wandering this particular neck of the woods.

her casting about is helping her follow the final meal of her night, one she had tracked since there was still light in the twilight of the day. it was not a mighty meal, but it was meal enough for one - especially one as small as she was (or so she would think once she saw the others that populated moladi--

“Hello.” it comes as a hesitant voice, but when her eyes turn to the sound, she also notes it is not spoken meekly. sure, though she cannot say why, of himself - she takes the look of the stranger in. she is small, she is young, she is alone. it leaves her in a predicament she had not thought to defend against at night. there is a slight rise to her hackles and only but the barest warning lift of her lip as she better faced him.

As the lady Pompeii had not, so she did not use the words of these strange people, and it left her at a disadvantage in the small matter of reassurance and greeting. Her raised hackles make her look bigger, her hunched shoulders too, and yet she has not braced her feet for a fight. it is as cautious a greeting as he would receive, her nose twitching and extending only the barest bit in curiosity.

his body language held no animosity, the tone of his tongue did not seem to hold any bite, her ears do not perk but they do lift from the flattened place against her skull and she takes a very minute step forward. his eyes are strange, offering very little hint to his intent, and she was not bold enough to look into them long in any case, but so were his ears and tail. it was the latter two that suddenly took her young attention away from the scars and surprised-empty-hesitant expression.

a soft snuffle and then an even softer whine, as though in sympathy or empathy, escapes her. it was not a natural thing, to not have a tail or the full cup of one’s ears. there was no benefit, and she would assume a good few disadvantages, even. “h-he--hello?” she tried to form in a wisp of a voice, nose scrunched in distaste at the sensation it created in comparison to her usual manner of communicating. too much movement of tongue, wrapping it around speaking words as though she lapped an icicle and it stuck for the chill.