the words we speak in the silence between

Solas had set out to stretch his legs, unbeknownst that there was a child missing. He missed his wolf form, and though he was a wanted man, the forests of Arlathan were familiar and safe. He could wander through them and nothing but rumors of the Dread Wolf would circulate the great Elven city.

He heard someone call out, and his ears pinned to his head, six orange eyes peering through the shadows of the undergrowth that he'd been wandering through. The voice spoke the ancient tongue, and he scented the air.

The first thing he smelled was the ancient creature before him. The second? Fear. His ears swiveled, and he lowered himself to the ground.

He would wait for this woman to pass.