Whos this now?

"Good to meet you," she smiled. Well, a purple wolf was certainly unorthodox. She thought briefly of the patterns that swirled in her own fur. The yearling was the mirror image of her mother--save for the eyes, and the jagged stripe of white fur that ran across her back. They were the only things she had received from her father, though for once the thought wasn't troubling; the man had passed long before she was born.

"You're right. I thought he did," she repeated. "when I first saw him. I was a little far away from him--turned out it was just his vulture, though. I'd never seen a wolf with wings before--well, before you, actually." She sat down, eyes sweeping over the feathered appendages. "I'm sure you can't actually fly with them, can you? But they must be pretty cool, anyway." Nothing she'd heard indicated the feature could support a wolf in the air--which was an awful shame, because how fun would that be?--but she was curious all the same.