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Ghost was comically tiny in comparison to the massive dire wolf. her ivory pelt barely reached thirty-four inches, standing next to one another, you would never know how close the two had become over a single conversation, the most unlikely of friends, and yet, the most unforgettable. She seemed to have an abundance of patience, but not today. Ghost was eager, excited, emotions the silky woman rarely felt. Her bodice quivered in silent anticipation and shortly after her call and what felt like an eternity later the woman would glide into her view. Ghost would hesitate no more. She would slide up, onto her pads and without a word would glide to her companion.

There was no hatred or suspicion in her gaze, no biting negativity or screaming madness, the woman's body posture was relaxed, liquid-silk and her gaze was filled with love and adoration. Gliding forward, she invaded the Queen's personal bubble without care, extending her maw up, to lovingly brush the tender cheek of the Queen. Gently, her tongue would escape her maw, bathing the soft fur in a delicate kiss, before nuzzling the spot gently and pulling away. Affection was something rare for the mad dame, something very few received. Newt was a rare... rare exception.

"Newt..." She would purr the name like a lovers caress, the sweetest of sins, the softest of lullabies. Delicately, she would recline to her haunches, tail coiling around her flank, to lie still. A smile would adorn her maw and she would dip her head. "Segar is well, minding our three pups, while I venture to visit you. How are your pups beloved? Healthy? Well?" Her words soft and curious, she would await Newt's response, excitement and intrigue, lighting the silvery disks she called her eyes.