Lost Creek Hollow didn't expect you to whisper some truth through your hands

Root, despite her lack of sleep, rises early in the morning.  Most of the time, she’s aimlessly wandering the territory to familiarize herself.  She knows the distance between where she sleeps and the alpha’s den but doesn’t visit there—she hasn’t had a need—but the knowledge sits in the back of her mind anyway just in case.  She does make the trip to the stream for a drink before she begins her day, letting the cold water wake her up.  From there she patrols and rarely has she run into another, but a good majority of their land is protected and a good thing, with one of the leaders not quite back to his full self.

The howl catches her attention and, deciding she’s close enough to adjust her track and close the distance, she does so.  

The distance isn’t as far as she expects but the climb is what slows her down.  Her legs are not made for such a thing and what should have taken ten minutes, perhaps, drudges into nearly half an hour.  She’s nearly out of breath by the time she catches wind of the stranger and Root stops to catch it, slowly drawing in until she sees the creamy female.  A soft chuff escapes her lips as she makes her presence known, stepping up and admiring the odd-eyed woman, something that happens to run in her own line.  It isn’t enough to warrant question but she does dip her head in greeting before her posture adjusts to a more casual dominant stance.

“Can I help you?”