I don't wanna know no fake friends

She was so used to wearing her mask that she hadn't even realized she would startle anyone, Azariah met his words with a smile that tried to be warm. Her dark ears twisted and turned on her head, ruby eyes turning to see some kind of structure nearby. Having lived on the Forgotten Isle for a long time, Azariah knew such places were warmer and easier to shelter in. "It would be easier to hear you over there." The winds had shifted again, swallowing the male's words until they were just a jumble of meaningless sound.

Turning toward the building, Azariah hoped the male would follow her. It was the only available shelter nearby anyway, if there was wisdom in the wolf then he would. Her bell tinkled against her chest like a beckon in the icy winds, and her mask helped to keep most of the snow away from her blood-colored eyes. Umbra stayed tucked into her scruff, unwilling to fly in such awful conditions. Soon, the witch was in the sanctuary of the broken cathedral. The wind didn't bite as hard here, and it would be easier to talk.