A Hand basket to Hell

With wings. She could keep an eye out for a wolf with wings. But she wasn’t going to press deeper into that forest to look for him. Just to the edge to grab the samples. Perhaps she’d ask whatever wolf was dropping them off if they’d seen the winged wolf. Her brow had furrowed into a thoughtful frown, and when she concentrated back on Oleander, she noticed how sad and tired and… young, he looked. He looked so much younger than she felt.

She paused, hesitating. Affection wasn’t on the list of their interactions. Sass, eye rolls, and danger was. She stepped forward, a little closer, feeling and likely looking very hesitant. She reached out, and touched her paw to the top of his. A quick, fleeting touch. “I’ll keep an eye out. It’s… it’ll be okay.” The words tasted odd on her tongue.


"Speech"