Nycteria made a point to keep to the flatlands.  While she was growing accustomed to this territory, she first needed to ascertain what she could of the populace.  That was easier said than done, of course.  While she could certainly smell other wolves, she knew enough to understand she couldn't very well traipse onto their territory without incident.  Her social knowledge was limited, but her birth-pack had taught her well enough about boundaries.  That was common sense to virtually all wolves:  no trespassing.  So, this was going to be a bit more difficult than she initially surmised.  Fine.  She enjoyed a challenge.

Hugging the water's edge, she approached the lake for a drink.  She didn't really have a set schedule.  Such was the life of a nomad.  What would another rest hurt?  Her lavender eyes glinted as she drank the fresh lake-water.  Perhaps this place wasn't so bad.  She was certainly homesick, but thus far, she had been treated to rather lovely scenery.  The real struggle was going to be navigating pack politics, or so she supposed.  The only pack she'd ever known was her mother's; the members of that pack were her aunts and other relatives.  Now that she was alone, she had to develop an identity outside of her comfort zone.  She lifted her head, water still dripping from her chin.  Oh, well. There was really no sense in overthinking it -- not now, anyway.

She hadn't been expecting company.  In truth, it was the sound of the other wolf's voice that drew her attention in the first place.  It was hardly a proud moment for Nycteria, but she was still learning. "Oh," she blinked, looking the massive, injured wolf up and down with uninhibited surprise. Were all wolves in this area so huge?  She willed her hackles to stay down. "Am I on your land? she wondered conversationally and without an ounce of aggression.  It wasn't in Nycteria's nature to be so.  Though she certainly didn't consider herself submissive, she supposed that if she had to choose between the two roles, she likely fell into that category.  It was that and, well, she doubted she could take this stranger even if she was wounded.

"You look hurt. I know a few good herbs for that," came her simple observation.  Perhaps she could garner favor with this warrior.  It certainly wouldn't hurt.

Nycteria's eyes followed the stranger's gesture.  She gazed off into the distance, able to see red mountains rather distinctly.  They were difficult to miss. "Huh," the sound escaped her lips before she cared to stop it.  It was a curious vocalization, spurred on by the fact that she'd never seen mountains so red before in her life.  Why hadn't she noticed them before?  It was entirely likely that it was because she came from a place that didn't even have mountains.  There were large boulders and rocks, but Artemiseum was largely woodlands.  Still, she digressed.  Nycteria returned to the conversation with her interest piqued, particularly at the white she-wolf's alleged proposal.

"I believe that I, perhaps, misrepresented myself," one of her ears twitched as a subtle smile progressed across her soft features. "I am no healer. I am a priestess." 'A Witch,' was what she didn't say.  Nycteria didn't yet know how these wolves felt about witchcraft and the like.  Her mother and aunts had warned her of distrusting outsiders her entire life. "My name is Nycteria.  Who are you, warrior?  That is what you are, yes?" She indicated her companion's injuries with a gesture of her muzzle.

Nycteria showed visible surprise at Nyra's confession.  She didn't anticipate finding another wolf here who knew of her trade or her craft.  For whatever reason, it had never occurred to her that there were witches outside her own pack.  She supposed, in retrospect, it made sense.  Then again, was that not why she was out on her own, now?  To learn everything that she couldn't in the ranks and comforts of her coven?  Her eyes stayed trained on Nyra.  She noticed that she moved closer.  Was she hesitant?  It seemed an odd thing to be, as large as the white wolf was.  Maybe it was something else.

"I won't bite," she assured Nyra with her most charismatic smile. "Perhaps it is custom for wolves to do battle with one another here, but that is not so where I am from.  I will do no harm to you." It remained to be seen whether or not the pack wolf would believe her.  To Nycteria, it was neither here nor there.  The fact of the matter was, the priestess showed no signs of aggression.  It was up to the warrior to decide her trustworthiness. "You, too, were apart of a mystery cult?" She was intrigued. "I did not know that there were others. That is why I am here now, to learn new information.  Did you worship the Goddess, also?" A pause followed then.  This mention of Craft as well as Nyra's thinly veiled warning made her think.

"Do warriors practice Craft?"

Dark gods. She was unfamiliar with this terminology.  Sitting there, listening to Nyra explain the structure of her former pack, Nycteria was forced to come to grips with what little knowledge she had.  She was realizing more and more why her mother had insisted she leave the safety of the group, now.  The Timber wolf blinked thoughtfully, watching as the warrior finally seemed to become soothed in her presence.  She offered another, small smile and nodded. "I am sorry to hear about your family," she extended condolences, hoping that they would be well or neutrally met.  The way Nyra spoke of her past, it did not seem positive, but losses were losses.

"That is a noble cause," Nycteria responded congenially, nodding her head attentively. "I am unsure of my purpose here in... oh, what are these lands called?" She spoke of the lands as a whole but did not attempt to elaborate further. "I am here to learn. I believe I must also be here to spread the will of the Goddess. Are wolves from this place spiritual?  Or do they prefer tooth and claw?"

Nycteria nodded in response to the information that Nyra shared with her. "You have shared much with me.  I feel I must return the favor somehow.  Are you certain I cannot find an herb to help soothe any of your wounds?" Though Nyra had initially denied her, she couldn't help but ask again.  She came from a culture of sharing and making good on owed debts or favors. "I suppose you cannot tell me about your pack?" The priestess continued the conversation regardless of the warrior's answer.  She still enjoyed the company she provided. "I do not want to jeopardize any of your secrets." A playful expression settled at the corners of Nycteria's mouth.