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There was a loneliness clinging to her soul, developed over the months of imprisonment and perfected by the way she felt as if she had no one in the world. It wrapped its spindly fingers around her shoulders, over her eyes and her mouth, dragging her closer. Contact with other canines was the only way she knew to fight it off, give herself some time before it finally took over. She suspected that she knew how to fight it off completely, but she was not ready to make that step yet. Soon, very soon, she would make her journey and her choice.
It was the desire to stave of this desperate loneliness that drove the gypsy girl to speak to the strange wolf, but it was met with a quick stiffening, as if she had been completely surprised to be interrupted. This brought a tinge of guilt to the blonde wolf hybrid, and she felt that she should have made more noise to make her aware of her approach. But the earthen-hued wolf did not tell her to leave; she offered her a seat.
Once it would have been her nature to simply join her without waiting for an invitation, such is the way of the gypsies she had been partially raised by. Tribe life was different, though family was a focus. Without one, Foxglove had felt out of place. She longed for the days of feeling like she was a part of something, but now she had no one but a horse and a spirit, and a sister so very far to the north.
Tainted by prejudice as she now was, she was hesitant to approach, even after the invitation had been extended by the brown she-wolf. The girl did not seem upset by her presence and seemed genuine in her invitation, but Foxglove could not help but worry that this wolf would hate her for her blood, too, once she was close enough to see clearly.
She took a deep breath, walked to the fallen log. With a sweep of her skirts and longer scarves, Foxglove sat beside her, turning slightly towards Eclipse. Her legs crossed at her ankles, and when the water was offer, she took it gratefully. She looked away for a moment when she lifted he arms, ashamed of the bracelets of bald skin that encircled each wrist.
"Thank you," she said as she offered the water back to its generous owner. She folded her hands in her lap, studied the dancing flames of the small fire. "Where are you from?" she asked in her wispy tones, her voice melodic. She certainly wasn't from around here.
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