my voice upraised to wild swept chords

Pia Hayes · 04-10-2012, 08:34 AM

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The female had closed her eyes to better enjoy her other senses, such as the spray of cool water on her thick coat. Her humming was soft, barely discernible over the babble of the river moving languidly over the smooth stones. The voice that hailed her from the direction of the border, however, was loud enough for her to stop mid-verse and turn to stare at the newcomer.

The pack wolf looked young like her, silver with ruddier streaks around his face and mane. He looked nice, but that was really what Pia thought of everyone she came across. The scent that clung to him hadn’t quite been integrated with the musky border markers, however, so she guessed that he was new to his pack just like she was new with Ichika. Her mind fastening on this vague connection between them, the gray she-wolf leaped to her feet and grinned at him, her tail wagging as if in greeting of an old friend. Eagerly, she bounded toward him—which was likely destroying etiquette for border meetings, other than her obvious submissive posture: downturned ears, tail wagging very low, head lowered in deference even though her muzzle bore a large smile.

“I came to the river, and see the bushes and drank,” the young woman explained, tilting her nose in that direction for a heartbeat after her words rushed out of her mouth all wrong. She ventured to poke him, her belly all but touching the ground as she scooted closer. “Who’re you? What pack is this?” She grinned and wagged her tail harder, a wriggling thing captured between her hind legs as she took in his lean appearance.

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