Long before the wolf emerged from the dark mass of trees ahead, Salvia had known it to be friendly. If it had been otherwise, she and the cat would not have waited—both were capable fighters and the lynx still longed to drink wolf’s blood. The pale she-wolf was larger and heavier than the girl, but also nearly a full year her elder. That did not diminish the girl’s size, and it hardly took a wild guess to realize whose daughter this was. From her color’s alone she sang of Siv’s bloodline, though her size betrayed this further. Siv was among the few who managed to crown Salvia.
After a moment of rather appropriate submission, Salvia let out a chuff of hot air and nudged the girl in order to exchange a proper greeting. Abendrot remained silent, amber eyes watching the pair, ears and tongue and nose working elsewhere. He took several slow, creeping steps in a direction opposite of them and made a barely-visible motion to his mistress.
Catching this from the corner of her eye Salvia nudged the younger girl with her shoulder and looked pointedly towards the cat. Between the three of them hunting would be simple.
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