the dulled scrape of nails over stone. Discreet, and swift on approach. Her head lifted as she strolled, though her pace did not quicken, and that easy way about her never faltered. She was completely at peace here on the mountain slope, and though she suspected as to whom the identity of her tracker was, in the end it would not matter.
Whether she knew who she was or not, she was a wolf of the mountain. It never mattered how far her wandering paws took her, Orca never forgot her roots. Her heritage, all that she was and all that was her, was woven irrefutably into the lore of these summits. And so she simply continued on her way, content to allow whomever it was to approach her as they saw fit.
But, as the flash of silver flitted through the trees, and a lean elder frame emerges onto the path beside her, she turns her raspberry tipped nose towards the handsome sterling figure of her brother. Her spirits lifted at the sight of him, her face breaking into a girlish smile that belied her years. Warm Brown eyes sparkled with humor and joy as she suddenly springs forth to go meet him, prancing towards him on light nimble paws as her tassel held aloft to sway swiftly in greeting. She did not hesitate to reach forth, extending her muzzle towards that of the male's to gift his chin with a little affectionate lick.
She could not contain the excitement that bubbled from her, radiating with the whimsy of a rainbow on a spring day.