River Run

The first wolf you meet is Pitch, the black she-wolf's body blending in like a shadow among the thick woods. She watches you closely, her ears perked and her tail stiff. You can tell it's more than just her here—the heavy scent of multiple wolves drenches the rocks and undergrowth, smelling strongest where you currently are at the riverine isle's tapered northernmost neck.

You softly whine a greeting, hoping to successfully communicate your benevolent intentions.

The she-wolf's expression doesn't change; she remains rigid, her ice-blue glare sharp and piercing like a mountain lion's claws. You wonder what you should do next, but before you can make a decision, another wolf reveals himself.

His golden-yellow pelt stands out magnificently atop a dark, shady outcropping. He looks much kinder than Pitch, and he confirms it by wagging his tail.

"Welcome to River Run," Freesia amicably says, his hazel eyes bright.