Devika came to a halt and lowered herself onto her haunches, eyes never leaving the other’s. Her posture remained relaxed, deliberately neutral. She posed no threat, just another drifting soul in a world that asked little and offered less.
The silence stretched. No response.
Devika tilted her head slightly, studying the she-wolf anew. Was she mute, too? Or simply withholding her voice, something Devika had yet to earn?
Her sharp blue gaze swept over the stranger: no visible injuries, no pack scent clinging to her coat, and alone. Wandering. Curious.
New to these lands, perhaps? That might explain the wariness.
Devika understood that. She remembered how disorienting it had been, first realizing she had arrived in this place—so quiet, so strange.
It suited her well enough.
But maybe not the silver.