Wrong Stripes

No territory line would keep the almost one year old confined. Tiring of the view of endless waves surrounding their home, she traveled to the mainland earlier that morning. Letting the rising sun guide her slightly east, she found herself in chest-deep grass. Flowers nearly tickled her nose as she made a winding path through the plains. Taking in the fragrant scent and warming sun along her back, Calliope didn't mind being alone. Listening to the twitter of birds and skitter of rabbit along the dirt, it was pleasant. Being alone with her thoughts. For now...

As her head turns, pale gaze admiring the scenery, she sees another wolf. Dark of coat, practically the same size as her (she would stand a full 44" at the end of summer), and a gaze of purple, he catches her interest. Tilting her nose up, the gentle breeze carries his scent over. It isn't familiar. He doesn't belong to Heidinn, Avalon, or Ashen, so who?

Without any fear in her step, Calliope approaches. Keeping her head high, ears alert, tail flagged over her back, she lets out a chuffing noise to alert him to her presence. No use surprising him and catching teeth when she didn't want to. Stopping a few feet away, she regards the man with subtle interest. "What're ya doin' in my plains?" She questions, youthful voice a force to be reckoned with.

"Speech"