Standing before her pupil, her friend, the Nomad bore a mask of disappointment laden with worry for what had become of the coywolf before her. One had the capacity to reap hostility and vengeance upon another, but it had pained her to see and know that the smaller form before was capable of the like… especially when it hadn’t been called for so hastily.
The demand of her voice was met with a deepening scowl, the face of a master spoken down to by an apprentice. Such intolerance was not becoming of the she-wolf nor the hostile tones of her companion. What had happened to bring them to this point, she wondered. What swayed the like as what she had seen days before to take over her cherished friend? They were the remnants of a nightmare and yet she could not awaken from it, but rather was kept in this illusion hoping, prying for a way to return to the reality she knew and held dear.
When at last her lips parted and her hardened gazed softened to one seeking understanding, she lowered herself to be level with the scout and expended a paw in the hopes it would be taken, a familiar gesture of beaconing she knew her friend would understand. “Why do you think I am here?” she asked softly, allowing the young female to arrive at the obvious conclusion for herself. But still, she spoke the words that need to said showed the spell that bound her friend to these lands not allow her to come to reason. “I am worried for you, Vesper. I did not recognize that person I saw that day… but I recall very clearly the look in your eyes and was deeply ashamed. My friend… that is not you.” Softly the golden she-wolf sighed then brought herself further down to her knees to kneel before her friend. “I came in the hopes of understanding what has happened; what has made you into the person I saw…”