Phantom Hollow and she's only one dance away

Delilah didn't know exactly how she managed to end up head-deep in a foreign pack's territory, but she did. She knew because she could smell it. The scents in her air changed from wonderful, fresh forest smells to the pungent odour of pack, and all the wolves that existed in this region. She felt like she had waded into a river of smell, her own outsider scent standing out like a sore thumb in the current of pack and wolf smell.

She looked around uncertainly, unsure of which way to go. She couldn't trust her nose anymore, there was too much pack smell masking the scents of the forest outside, and she was completely and utterly lost so she couldn't trust her eyes either. Was she trespassing? She didn't know.

A flash of platinum caught her eyes, and she turned around to glimpse at a lithe young wolf, not much younger than she, with startling grey fur wading through the trees. The pack smell wafted strongly off him, she surmised that he must be from this area. He carried himself with an air of confidence, like he knew exactly what he was doing and where he was going. Delilah couldn't deny that he was handsome.

"Ho, there!" She called after him, hoping to catch his attention before he walked away completely and left her to her own devices again.