Deepwood Weald Nose on the grindstone

@Legend >:)

Deeper and deeper Wren had wandered. Now acquainted with the lands to some degree, her confidence grew, and the closer she got to territories she could smell pack wolves in. Never too close did she wander; only investigating from the sidelines, watching from afar. She was comfortable with that for the time being.

Over the course of a day or two, she'd crossed from the floodlands and through the edge of a valley. By her second evening, she had found coverage within the forest, which she was thankful for. Secluded and quiet, untouched by others, as far as her nose could tell. Thick sagebrush and woodland ferns, trees that loomed way, way, way above her head, full of birds eagerly awaiting hatchlings in the oncoming warm months. A comfortable enough place to find a meal and take a much-needed break, save for the humidity.

She'd snuffed out an unassuming hare, ambushing it and snatching it between her jaws, offering it a comfortable and quick end. A small meal, but one she could settle for. She carried it with her as she continued onward, movements languid yet dragged down by drowsiness, body held close to the earth. She left no trace, so she thought. No one would bother her here. 

Return.

It had been after her run-in with the Two Rivers that the trek east would take place. The scent of them was on her nose again, even if faint and far, it had been strong to her. It was strong enough to make her take lead and prey after this scent. Intermingled, entwined, different in its own way, yet quite easily summed up to be the unique scent of the individual she trailed after. 'Pack scent' kept her moving, and regardless of its presence, perhaps she would have anyways. Another stranger was taken into appreciation.

When hours of trailing along passed, vaguely moving faster than the fallen whelp she was after now, it was then she struck. Physically, her own flank would roughly press right up to the side of the behemoth after rushed leaps were given to catch up. Rearing her head up with a smile on her maw, every detail she needed was taken in immediately. Female, traveling, moving east, stocky, and she gave no mind to strut her stuff with a tail high to the clouds. "Hello there! Where you going? Ya nice, missy?" Size was obvious. Scrawny little Legend and nice big stranger! Why, she could slip right under her if she wanted to! Well, wasn't that funny? "Wow, you sure are big!"

Huhwhuh? A quick swivel of Wren's head reveals the form of a wolf that had not been there mere seconds ago. She had to blink and bite the inside of her cheek to prove to herself that she wasn't hallucinating. Her lip curls up and reveals a flash of teeth, more out of annoyance than genuine malice. She was too tired for that right now. What-- who the fuck are you?

Coming to a near screeching halt, her ears fly to the sides of her head, wiry fur bristling at the tips and puffing her up, making her appear larger than she already was. Now, Wren had been making an effort to be nice to almost everyone she'd met thus far in these lands, but given the fact that post-meal chemicals were making her fatigue worsen and she desperately needed water and to just sit down, her patience had worn a bit thin. Still, she bit back the threats that wanted so badly to fly from her tongue. She settled on giving the stranger a wary scowl, face tightening and teeth still very clearly visible, gleaming in mother Sun's golden hour. They would bite within good reason, and she made that known with a chuff and a grumble.
Man, you're awfully tiny, she retorts, bunching up her shoulders in a sudden burst of insecurity and a very feeble attempt at making herself smaller. Which was unsuccessful. Wren felt as if she may be almost double the size of the wretched little raven. what's it to yah?

"Oh!"
Coming to a quick sit in front of the stranger's face, tail picking up behind her with perked, large ears spiked upwards. "Well, hi there! Me is called," she fumbled on her words, looking side to side while she noticed her clear stumble in that attempt with 'me'. Though, she would recover quick! Fast as the wind! Her language would adapt! "Legend!" she nodded with notable confidence and ease. Not always consistent, her modern tongue, but she would push for these folk to understand her more! 

"What is your name? You smell much like pack wolf, you! I wished to ask you of." Aggression? From a stranger? Yes, but she was not biting her, so that meant she was safe and dandy! Fine and okay, yes? That was the display she showed: comfort and casualness to this stranger's unease.

Wren's face twitches, morphing into a show of mild disgust, or possibly disdain. Admittedly, upon hearing the broken speech and accented tongue, she felt a pang of what must've been guilt. Another wolf that was clearly foreign, still trying to find her footing among these lands. With a short breath and a clasp of her mouth shut, she decides she would attempt to fix this rocky introduction.

Wren, she responds, whistling through her teeth as pink tongue pokes out and runs across black lips. Wren 'Not-A-Pack-Wolf' Aquilanera. As much as she wanted to laugh at her own dry humor, all that came of it was a crease in the corner of her mouth that indicated a smirk. It wasn't far-fetched to assume that she'd smelled Wren's recent rendezvous on her pelt. She shudders at the implication. She found it amusing that his smell remained so strong she was mistaken for his comrade. Perhaps he would get a kick out of that, should she mention it to him. Should she see him again.

She takes a brief moment to examine the girl - Legend, allegedly, which was a stupid name, but she would refrain from saying such - with an obvious roll of chestnut eyes that ran up and down the lanky, near-emaciated frame in front of her. She looked not unlike a yearling, though the shape of her face and the size of her feet told her otherwise. A truly tiny little thing, almost pitifully so. Why'd you ask? You need someone to take down a deer for yah? You're lookin' a little famished there, chickadee.

"Oh, I would love that, but no, missy, not at all!"
Sit, sit, sit! Kept her nice and happy, kept this stranger from biting her, and gave her time to think. Who thought better when standing? Well, her of course, she thought better no matter what! Legend always thinking, on the move, on the grind. Perhaps a bit of a lie! Okay, big lie, Legend always thought better with a sit, but it also made her poised, made her 'prettier'! Though, that would not stop her, because Legend would think regardless. 

"You are no pack wolf?" Well, what lies! Her nose told her otherwise. Could she lie to her face? Oh, but perhaps she was banished. Perhaps that was why she was headed away from the location of the Two Rivers. Right! This one was banished! Or something. Or a spy. Or something.

"Yet you smell of pack. I was mistaken? I was hopin' to understand where I am a lit-tle better, ma'am!" she chirped. Squinting her eyes, her head tilted, clearly questioning in that statement. Sense? Where was it? She found none. 

You smell of pack wolf.

What an odd insult. Wren fights back the urge to let a growl slip from her throat, and instead, the rumble comes out in a dry, humorless laugh. She made a mental note to bathe as soon as she had a moment alone. Had she known she would be interrogated by a complete stranger for having a little fun, she would have walked her ass in the other direction. She contemplated it now, and yet she didn't; continuing to shuffle around with an awkward, fumbling gait, unsure of what to do with her body.

No, sorry to disappoint, Eye twitch. had a run in with somebody from here, s'all. Not that it's any of your fuckin' business.

One dusty ear swivels forward, the other pinning to the back of her head. We're in, uh-- actually, I've got no clue. Look, I'm not from here, so if you're lookin' for directions, I'm not your guy.