Sleeping Dragon But please don't need it

Their path veered away from the open terrain and towards the homes of their packmates. Following closely, Freyja padded on after her younger sibling. “Maybe...” she offered, her eyes scanning about the territory around them, “...she’s hunting?” After all the last time that Freyja had seen Portia was in the midst of a hunt. Surely that was all the blotched wolf did with her time. She was unaware of the wolf’s other talents and thus was at a loss of any viable hints.

Pausing as her brother did, Freyja took her brother’s hint and lowered her nose to the ground. There were closer to the common area that was the crossroad of many of the pack's members. She took longer in her smelling this time as there were more smells to sample. Soon enough, the familiar floral scent of the older wolf wafted past her nostrils-- but the smell itself was old. “Portia,” she said, lifting her head and looking to her brother. “She’s---” she smelled again, her nose lifted in an attempt to pinpoint just where the other wolf had gone.

It went east.

“-- that way.” She said, pointing east.