There was a small rumble against the ground of approaching footfalls—she could feel it before she heard it. Citlali cracked open her eyes, blinking against the brightness of the sun. 'who...who are you?' The voice was soft, hardly over a whisper, raw with a strange emotion that the blind wolf could not understand—it felt akin to shock. Her head canted aside.

Citlali is my name, she returned, raising her upper body. but, I have no business here—if that is what you inquire. She dipped her head respectfully, bracing a paw against the ground in preparation to depart.

Yet... her body didn't want to move. It was the first of such familiarity—the simplicity of a broad field with blooming flowers—that she'd seen in what felt like an eternity. Her tongue curled over her lips, rasping over her pale nose.