Moonspear lawmother

The open-border policy was something new to Myna, but welcomed all the same- though she had yet to learn the scents of the folk who could freely come and go. She had tried to make note of the scents she had detected along the borders, and discern which ones shared a collective trait. Their visitors were many- the pack, she assumed, was highly social in nature. 

She had been heading toward the borders when the scent of the man crossed her path, and gave her reason to pause. He smelled of the ocean and of fish; she licked her lips appreciatively. Some had smelled like him who had passed the borders before, and thus she assumed she should not shepherd him out. He was likely drawn to the mountain for a reason that had nothing to do with her- but she was curious to see, and learn his scents. 

She searched for him, meandering along the foothills, hoping to catch a glimpse of him as she moved, slinking and shy.