Sheepeater Cliff Bighorn Country

A head popped suddenly into view, and the yearling took a startled step back until she clocked the posture of the attached body - not only was it a Creek wolf, but he was approaching to greet rather than chastise. Though Bazi was not the sort to run her mouth, she had put several feet in it over the past week, each time in the presence of someone important. The memory of it made her cheeks burn. The pack's Gamma was a large, roughhewn wolf, he too recovering from a significant - but healing - injury. Bazi guessed cougar, but didn't ask. The recent intrusion had cost the pack's Beta dearly, and it was a topic she had been warned not to stray close to again.

The newcomer mirrored and extended his nod, tail whipping close to the ground as he conducted his assessment. "Scouting," she confirmed smilingly, but her expression turned fearful at his question. She knew that he was out on official business, and it hadn't been her intention to doubt his capacity to do the job. "Oh! Not at all! I - Fox didn't send me, I'm just cautious around here, because.. because it's so close to the Vale. I was going to find out those low clouds in the east is," she pointed her muzzle in that direction, meaning the steam that amassed above Firestone Hot Springs when the conditions favoured it, "But there are goats around here somewhere, and I got distracted. Where are you heading? Oh, and - I'm Bazi. Newcomer."