the winds have changed, can't you tell?

She heard a voice, her nose wrinkling as she looked around and placed the general direction it was coming from. It seemed friendly, and Satire had been told the area around the den was Abaven and it was safe, so she figured the mysterious disembodied voice that was talking to her was also safe. “Who’s that? Where are you?” She called out, a soft alarm to her features simply because looking around, she couldn’t see the other pup. Already she was picking up some of her father’s Russian accent, her words slurring together slightly from the sweet linguistic coo of the vodka effect.

She didn’t know much, all she knew was that the rabbit had gotten away, and now there was a strange voice talking to her. “Are you a ghost?” She was vaguely familiar with the concept. Still, the pup did not think to actually travel in the direction of the voice. That was far too easy than trusting the voice of a stranger who was out of sight, right? Her tail wagged as fiery hues looked around again, thinking maybe the wolf would show themselves. She hoped she wasn’t right. What would she do if she were talking to a ghost? Could she talk to dead wolves? The thought absolutely sent a soft shiver down her spine. Why would a ghost be out in this weather anyway? It was so cold. Mama and Papa had promised that spring was on it’s way, but for now the frigid temperatures were enough to warrant her remaining close to the den, amongst other things.