Word Count: 418
She naturally smelled the other female before she heard her, but waited until the sandy furred wolf spoke before looking around at her. A strand of the young woman’s crimson hair fell in front of her violet eyes, but she quickly brushed it away with a free hand as she glanced over the stranger. All she knew about this wolf was that she had joined the pack recently, but they had yet to talk with each other or even formally meet, so Pixie didn’t even know her name. But she wasted no time in finding out. “I’m Pixie,” she said, her voice carrying a hint of the stress she had been under for the past few days. “Who’re you?”
It was only until after Gotham appeared in the doorway that she remembered that she had been asked a question by the stranger. Nodding briefly to the boy—she didn’t know him that well, either, but at least she knew his name and that he was Savina’s son—she then turned back to the other female with as neutral an expression she could muster. “I was just looking around for some more food and supplies. From the looks of it, this room and a few others in the manor haven’t been explored for a while. There could be anything in them. You guys wanna help me out?” She glanced at both of them now, hoping at least one of them would agree to join her, figuring that company would help further take her mind of off the weather.
Again, though, she found it hard to keep herself neutral whenever she looked at the other woman. There was something strange about her, something she couldn’t place. Maybe it was the mohawk. Yeah, it’s the mohawk, she thought to herself sarcastically. But it kind of was, actually; this wolf seemed very out of place amongst the other Crimson Dreamers, who, for the most part, were not really out of the ordinary, with the exception of a handful of them being Italian immigrants. More than that, though, they were peaceful; even Jazper, whom Pixie had seen nearly sacrifice himself to save his family from a bear, read books and played the violin. Pixie had felt a little out of place herself when she first joined the pack.
The new newcomer didn’t seem that threatening when she thought about it. Maybe the older wolfess was just getting used to the idea to being in a pack as well. Pixie couldn’t really blame her. Besides, maybe the woman would turn out to be fun and interesting.
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