There was a thrill that pulsed through Despoina when the white wolf instantly jumped and lowered herself to the ground. An odd desire stirred deep in the girl, her mouth began to water ever slightly and her eyes flashed with something that could not be placed. Her voice reached Despoina’s ears, quiet and subdued. The darker girl’s white half of her tail swayed once through the air, raising slightly. The expression on her face transformed from annoyance, to dangerous curiosity. Stepping forward, the steely blue eyes narrowed, studying the dirty white with an intensity surprising even to her.

Her head tilted and started to recoil when Neverland’s energy started to return. Despoina was suddenly off balance when Neverland’s energy returned. Lips curled over fangs and desires conflicted in her chest. One part of her urged her body forward suddenly to intimidate Neverland back into the submission she had showed moment before, while another half of her screamed at Despoina to stop, not to hurt this female. The result was a start forward, hackles just barely raised, but her face still confused and eyes trying to gain wisdom in this confusion. What was it about Neverland? Despoina’s young mind writhed in its need to know what was happening, while it growled at itself to calm down.

Still torn and confused, she sat down on her grey and silver haunches, figuring this was the best way to prevent herself from attacking the energetic woman. One ear quirked back. She was brought out of her own conflict by the sheer impossibility of what was being said to her. Fairies and ghosts. This wolf had to be crazy, but that did not mean she needed to be attacked. Not that she wanted to attack her.

Finally she said something the teenager could understand. “I am a moor wolf, yes.” Her voice was still harsh, its natural sarcastic and challenging tones impossible to get rid of. “The marshes suit me fine, the mist is a comfort.” Indeed, looking at Desoina it would be easy to see why such a wolf could easy find her home in a mist moor. Dark brown and blacks covered her head and shoulders, slowly shifting to silver and white when it reached her back paws and the tip of her tail. Narrow and elegant head lead a broad shouldered and bulky body that would one day be strong with a statue built for fighting. Unseen in the mists, she would be a dark wraith whose attack would be powerful with the first blow.

A smirk grew over her young face. “It is an adventure. Never knowing if what you are going to step on is land, water, or death.”