Blossom

It was difficult to tell if the male had heard her at first, and Irelyn briefly considered retreating into the sunset – but as she peered into the half light she thought she saw the flick and swivel of an ear. The golden female waited, using the time to separate the male's outline from their darkening surroundings.

He was thin, with legs which looked even more spindly than Irelyn's own long limbs, and from what she could discern in the dying light, his base coat was a sandy brown. He could have been made from sand itself, the way he was built – a wispy sandcastle who might be washed away by the next tide. Had he not moved, Ire might have believed him to be crafted from a million grains. The breeze sighed through Irelyn's pelt, and her eyes narrowed to try and catch any tiny grains flying away from the whole, but the male stood solidly still.

Pea green eyes caught turquoise ones for a moment before Irelyn shifted her gaze downward. Her lips twitched lightly in a half smile which was as fleeting as the golden hour. “Yes. Hoping to find somewhere to sleep before that happens,” she responded with another glance to the sky. “Were you – um – looking for something, too?” Most wolves were searching for something, something to aid them or complete them.

The female's forepaws shuffled against the earth; she could feel those bright eyes on her, staring, although she couldn't fathom why.