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As the wolf turned, Dragonfly stiffened with expected to be harshly dismissed or attacked; he brain manufactured her a lovely image of the dangerous fangs of the wolf that had taken a good chunk of skin off of her right hindquarter. The wound was healing, but it was still a scab at this point in time. The wolf that turned to face her seemed nervous and just as cautious as Dragonfly had been. Thank goodness! She really needed a moral booster and she was relieved to find a wolf who seemed in her right mind.

The white female’s salutation was simple, but also the finest one Dragonfly had heard! Not only her two heroes were of sound values - What a relief! Encouraged, Dragonfly stepped to a comfortable distance for chatting.

“What purpose does licking a tree serve?” Dragonfly asked with a curious tilt of her head.

Like this female’s voice, Dragonfly’s voice was gritty, though it was not from disuse. Her vocal cords seemed more primitive naturally compared to the fluid silky voices of the sophisticated wolves in Moladion (or at least, of the few she’d met). She did come from older tradition; she’d never smelled such a density of wolves in one area before, nor had she ever known such huge packs existed. The new high-life of big packs hadn’t reached the rural northern area she was from. Dragonfly was staying around, her need to understand why such life drew large numbers keeping her around, along with the hope of finding her life-mate among the heavy population of wolves. In the meantime, she wanted to meet some friends. She was hoping that this female would give her the time of day; company was much needed after some weeks of hiding.

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FEMALE \ 2 YEARS OLD \ 32 INCHES \ 150 POUNDS \ GYPSY \ NO MATE \ IMPRINT UNFOUND \ TOULOUSE