Wapun Meadow You can't be late until you show up.

Only after the last pronghorn had raced past her did Sien stand down and notice the other wolf’s presence. The herd’s scent had washed over her as they pounded past, a heavy musk brimming with sweat and fear and prey. Dimly, amongst that muddle, she’d picked out the aroma of a male; this orange wolf she was tracking with her gaze now. Pack wolf, her mind had registered. It was a fairly familiar smell by now; she’d noticed it many times as she edged her way around the marked borders, and it was the same one carried by the stranger she’d met in the tarns. What was his name again? Tasya? she wondered briefly, before casting the thought aside. It wasn't important; she doubted she’d ever see him again.
 
This new wolf was an ambitious one, hunting pronghorn alone as he did, but Sien supposed pack wolves could take risks like that. It wasn’t as if she herself hadn’t been tempted… but not only had she already eaten, she was also far too slow to take down an antelope without the benefit of surprise – and in this case, the pronghorns themselves had been the ones to surprise her. Not to mention, engaging even a single individual on her own promised a risk decidedly heavier than the slim chance at potential reward, let alone going after an entire herd….and one without a guaranteed weak link besides. Bravery…? Sien mused, observing as the male finally managed to tackle a female to the ground, grappling with it in earnest. More like suicidal, her mind concluded, as he narrowly dodged a flailing kick.  
 
It wasn’t until the fight was nearly over, with the male coming out on top, pinning his prey down, that Sien realized she probably should’ve made an attempt to aid him in some way. It'd slipped her mind; she was still so used to looking out solely for herself, so used to taking action only if they benefited her in some way. She winced slightly, suddenly somewhat abashed for her biting thoughts and inaction. I helped, she thought, trying to reassure herself. Just indirectly, without meaning to. Sien cast her eyes towards the sun guiltily, just for a moment, then averted them again, returning her gaze to the orange stranger, noting that he’d started tearing into his kill. I thank you for your life, your sacrifice, she prayed towards the pronghorn’s spirit in the stranger's stead, knowing he would not. For the next minute or so, Sien idled, torn over whether she should simply leave as she’d arrived, unnoticed, or if she should approach the stranger and try to form a connection, as Sect ideology willed her to. 

At last, she turned and retreated several paces – then turned again, heaving a sigh as she made her way down the slope toward the stranger. She wished, not for the first time since her alightening, that she’d been blessed with a more gregarious personality; it’d make being properly devout so much easier, so much more natural. But what is life without challenge? Niall’s voice, faintly humorous, rang through her mind as she approached the male. Not this, Sien thought in response, but it lacked any real bite; she'd already resigned herself to her fate. ”Hello,” she greeted simply, after coming to a halt a few respectful meters behind him. Now that she was here and had made herself known, Sien was, of course, at a loss for something more substantial to say. As always. ”Thanks for almost running me over with a herd of stampeding pronghorns?” her mind quipped suggestively – but she discarded the proposal almost immediately. No, too many words. Also too accusatory. It wasn't intentional…probably. She thought, frowning slightly. After another half-beat of silence, she decided on to start with something neutral – a question she’d been asking herself since she first noticed him. ”Why hunt alone?” And then, almost biting her own tongue for forgetting, ”Your name?”