Swiftcurrent Creek unbeknownst

Fox did not mind her own blood, though the thought of that wretched stinking wolf that lived among them caused her to feel a bit queasy. Little did she know she was speaking to the daughter of said stinking creature. Fox thought little of the small spot of blood on her own head, for it did not carry the smell that the shaman did. When it was stated that Fox was small, she was about to roll her eyes, but Clarice followed it up with the correct assumption that the yearling was quick. It was a compliment, rather than the usual, "Why are you so tiny? Are you really a fox?" and so on.

“Not at all,” replied Fox, having forgotten why she was in this particular place to begin with. “I’m afraid I can’t be of much help with that kind of thing. I’m more of a fighter.” The Nu swished her tail. If asked, she would be happy to accompany Clarice and help in whatever way she could, but she highly doubted she would be anything more than a nuisance. If this was to be their parting, Fox would find something else to occupy herself with.