Glen turned to the person who had just grabbed his arm. He looked down to find an old woman in a simple dark brown tunic that came down to her ankles. Her silver hair framed a face where age had left more than visible traces of its passage. The old werewolf loosened her grip on the arm and grabbed his hand with a softer, almost delicate gesture. She slightly squeezed the man's fingers. A glimmer of compassion and care shone in the pale gray irises. However, the aura surrounding the woman showed a strength that surprised the alpha. This strength wasn't physical. Glen could see goodness transpired through the piercing gaze the stranger gave him.
The old woman's pheromones, though those of a dominant, indicated her low rank, which shouldn't inspire so much strength in an alpha. However, she exuded such power that he was almost overwhelmed. The alpha was unsettled and frowned. He was about to ask for an explanation when she spoke.
"It must have been tough."
