The wolfdog froze at the words, her ears tilting back to rest against her crown. A shiver ran down her spine, and a scowl rested upon her visage. Slowly, she backed away, her head hung low and her tail whisking nervously by her hocks.

Only some questionable force seemingly appeared out of nowhere—the moment she bumped into... something, she yelped, jolting in the air and landing a small length away. What was that?!

Fur of deep midnight and eyes vibrant purple. Cvetka's nose twitched, brows furrowing at the sight of this mystery-wolf. Another stranger. Was this field simply popular? Or had she gotten unlucky?

The wolfdog once again turned to the man who stood upon the precipice, and she finally let her own voice ring through the clearing. It wasn't my intention, it was not a fretful excuse—rather, it was apologetic, I couldn't tell who you were. And, now she could see why—for this was not a wolf she'd ever seen before.

Cvetka was starting to question if there was simply an infinite supply of wolves in Elysium. Somehow, when she finally thinks she'd met them all, more would appear.