Emberwood i was born with a knife in one hand and a wound in the other

A scent on the wind catches her attention. At first, she doesn’t recognize it, mixed with something else, but there’s something that sets off a bell in the back of her mind. The shady forest doesn’t offer much light but eventually she catches a glimpse of golden sun beached fur through rays of sunlight from the trees. Her head tilts and a few seconds later, recognition sets in. Her nose moves slightly in acknowledgment when they meet one another’s gaze.

Thuringwethil chuffs softly as she slows to a stop. There isn’t much she knows about the other wolf but she’d been smart enough to back away and retreat when told. Now, plenty far away from her claim, she’s able to have a chance—if there’s no hard feelings, of course. She gives her a width birth, should the other want to continue on her way, but she remains patiently nearby.