Sorry! I didn't forget about this; I had a hard time figuring out how to reply, which is my fault. xD
Turning back toward the den, the timber wolf quipped that she would be dead if there had been an inhabitant. There was a snort of laughter from Vesper at that, and her lifted tail fell to half-mast, sweeping once or twice behind her in a languid wag. She appreciated canines that had some humor; it made them seem more natural and easier to deal with. She did not believe in barriers—though, unknowingly, she put one up herself. One’s first impression of the hybrid was that she was generally cold at the beginning, but she made up to it by warming up to others quickly. There was simply no point in being discordant to everyone; it meant an early grave.
“Wonder who used to live there,” Vesper remarked casually, not truly expecting an answer. She dared to come slightly closer, though her dominant posture had been abandoned for a neutral one, indicating that she felt they were more or less on the same ground.
She watched the luperci sniff the den before warning Vesper. There was a momentary flattening of her ears at the suggestion, but the coywolf understood and backed away a few steps to avoid the rubble being flung from the den’s mouth. Watching the rocks and dirt fly, she took a casual seat. She didn’t feel like leaving yet; perhaps it was because it wasn’t quite warm enough to run around or because of that vestige of a scent that she couldn’t quite place.
“Are you from around here?” Vesper asked. She hadn’t met many loners born in Nova Scotia, and they all seemed shaped in some strange way by their experiences. Most wolves native to the land were born into the multitude of packs spread out around the great peninsula. “I’m from the north, myself—not frigid, ice-locked, don’t-see-the-sun-for-months north, but north enough to make some civilized luperci uncomfortable.” She smirked and lifted a hind paw, scratching at an itchy patch on her neck. A tuft of summer fur came loose, and she watched the tawny fluff float away before looking over at the timber, curious despite herself. “My name’s Vesper.”
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