Bitterroot Valley Hubba bubba

Both wolves remained wary of one another, but Vega wandered nearer and Saena began to relax her stance. By the time the dark-haired woman was within speaking distance, the Redtail held herself completely neutrally but for the forward pitch of her ears, which spoke of authority. She had none here, she knew—a fact she was coming to accept more and more as she got older and put the events of her past behind her—but it was a part of her being. She would always stand with authority now.

She cast around them when Vega asked for the name of the place, and shrugged. "I've never been this far northeast," she admitted, "so if it has a name, I haven't learned it yet." Maybe she would make up a name for it, but all she could think of was roots, and only then because the ghostly hare had told her that much. A sidelong glance at where it had stood confirmed its disappearance. Not that it would be awkward otherwise. She doubted Vega could see it even if it had stayed.

"Maybe you can come up with a good name for it," she suggested, looking back at her present company and noting now her chartreuse eyes. Rare. Hawkeye's eyes had been that green, and she found herself wondering if this woman knew her wayward adoptive mother. Unlikely, she decided. Hawkeye was nowhere to be found. "I'm Saena," she offered, putting her thoughts on hold in favour of interaction.