Rising Sun Valley pen in one hand, sword in the other

She delved further in, headlong, into the depths of the Creek territory. Admittedly, it did seem strange to have it feel so abandoned around her. When she had been this far in last time, the pack's numbers had been strong and these very same paths practically reeked of wolf activity. Now, there were only the occasional scents and old faded memories.

The dark female drew a deep breath and was greeted with the scent of the Creek, unfiltered and uncluttered by distance; it was just ahead and jogging strides took her ever closer. Once it came into sight, so did the visage of a white wolf who regarded her with a simple chuff. This slowed her, and she swung her ears his way as she neared, neutral but confident in her manner of being.

She did not recognize him when she looked him up and down -- a sizable beast, probably of northern descent, and chilly blue eyes. She peered back readily, although she was a little confused by his question. "I came to visit the Creek," she answered, then swung her muzzle in its direction. "It has been a long time." Carefully cryptic, she would give a little in hopes that he may answer her own questions. "Do you live here by yourself?" the Rikudou had to ask, for she could not scent others on him distinctly. He looked to be in good condition, but she knew the Creek could provide, even to just one wolf.