Rawhide

TIAMAT

It had been a long time since she had been a Klein.

Tiamat's chest rose and fell with even breaths. She steadied herself, eyes closed, head bowed. Her paws worked the earth beneath her feet -- damp, cold, and surprisingly rich. She'd heard of the Volcano's eruption, but had stayed clear of the fallout in the months that followed it. Now that its effects were beginning to lessen, the wolf felt safer returning.

She'd half a mind to find her family first, but news of the Klein empire had reached her charcoal ears. They were growing steadily. It pained her a little, put a pang in her heart when she thought of her late parents, but to know that the Kleins were still thriving was a relief.

And, it meant that they could wait.

With that in mind, she strolled aimlessly through Boreas. Presently she halted, turning her striking eyes towards the wolf she'd chanced upon. Her lips wrinkled into a smile, genial and bright, eyes half-lidded as they always were. She stood, small and slight, at 29 inches, shorter than the average wolf and definitely small for a Klein. Fur tapered off her in wisps, every inch of her sharp and angular, rather a sight to behold. The other wolf was taller than her, but her face was youthful and she had not the world-weary air that seemed to bear on the Klein wolf.

"Good day to you," Tiamat purred, voice a strangely soothing lull. Her words flowed from her lips like a hymn, rolling off with a foreign lilt. "What might you be doing?"

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