The fly comes to bug her next, an unnecessary buzz by her ear as the soft nudges of a muzzle wakes her from her subconscious. She wakes with more urgency than the other wolf, instincts alerting her to the fact that she was no longer where she was last, even before she opened her eyes and rose to her feet.
As soon as pale yellow eyes meet the face of her brother, the speed of her alarmed movements decrease, and so she scans her surroundings with a much more focused, slow sweep. She notes the sulfuric pools off in the distance, the warm, somewhat damp earth which tell signs of a storm since passed, and the way the midday sun hangs lazily in the sky. Faded clouds barely attempt to hide its glow, giving their pelts a soft warmth.
When she looks to her brother, she notices the several new features his frame possesses. No longer did he look like an ordinary wolf, but he now sported steel spikes that protrude from his spine, long upper canines, two tails, feline front paws and, most notably, gleaming steel ram horns. She attempts to touch one of the horns with her nose, curious whether it was actually made of metal or if it just had the reflective surface of one, “Du hast dich verändert,” (You've changed), she says in German, voice low enough that only he should hear. She continues to speak to him as she looks around, “Wir hatten das Glück, dieses Mal an der Seite des anderen zu sein,” (We have been blessed to be by each other's side this time).