Swiftcurrent Creek unbeknownst

Clarice looked to Fox, tilting her head and wondering at the others words. Clarice certainly did not feel herself above or beneath any word at all, but she so seldom heard wolves speak as Fox did, so candidly. She could not tell the way that she felt on it. Rarely could she make up her own mind, though it was often everywhere. So it took mere moments for the thought to go, and Clarice seems to snicker while saying, Wolves do not seem to enjoy blood, wound, or debris. Many of them detest blood, she hums, thinking on those that would avoid her due to her bloodied state when she had made her sacrifice. She did not think of the smell that came with it. You are small like the Fox you are named. I bet you are as quick. She is thoughtful, then, and decides she would like to see.

I... am not sure, she responds, thinking for a moment. Truth be told, it had been something she and her father had done but not something she had remembered. There were many times where her mind left her and something else took place of it when rites were performed.

Her ears swivel atop her head. Did I interrupt you? She had meant when she had first come across her, her mind flitting back, and forth. I had meant to look for herbs... they are hard to find now. But that was all she knew. She must find herbs.