She made a small sound of exclamation, and whisked up her bag and held it to her chest. The bag was a pale leather, a creamy white color, with some dirt from being on the ground. "Yes, yes it is," she said as she dusted off the dirt from the bag. "Thank you, but I am sorry you nearly fell over it," she added. She turned around, and walked over to the carcass of the dead wolf, the leader of the beasts that were so intent upon making her their supper. She nudged a less bloody part with her toe of her slipper, enough so that the whole body of the beast rolled over. "Isn't it a waste to just leave it here? Could it not be used for a night's meal?" 
 She glanced back at him, taking the sight of him in again, her eyes fixated on his pointed ears. She let her eyes go up some, and noted he was a good three inches taller than she was. She had always been smaller, and more petite than most people her age. She went back down to his facial features, and noticed the scar on his nose. She didn't stare at it, but more so let her eyes roll back to look into his as always.