Emberflame Ridge and they were roommates

Her nose is pressed into the charred wood, a hole a perfect fit for her snout to fit through and test the smells below. Wet, burnt, and stale. Life hasn’t grown around it yet, everything dead within several yards each direction but her interest begins to wane. A light chuffs breaks through the sound and she jerks, clinging to the trunk of the tree lest she fall and turn slightly to see the ash-colored wolf approach. Mallaidh watches her for a moment before she tries to turn, ears cupped forward for the strange greeting.
 
“Umm…” she starts, licks her lips, and shifts a little on the trunk before she makes an awkward attempt to turn. Unfortunately, he back foot slips out from beneath her—"oh!"—and she ungracefully lands on the opposite side of her companion. Mallaidh lands with a thud and a wheeze before trying to gather her balance and catch her breath.