Grouse Thicket Dancing on our feet to an introspective beat

A familiar scent danced through the air on a rare breeze, her ears pricked, attentive. Nicolas. Her gaze roamed the tree's, the heat not as prevalent in her thoughts, instead the handsome brute who had been the first to best her since her time in the wilds. Already, she had learned from it, applying the techniques he had used in her teachings, to Burke and Shink and perhaps, someday, the pups. She was close, so close, to earning her specialty, and her gaze was already set on the rank she so longed for; Warlord. 

But pack ranks and other such things were pushed from her mind as Nicolas came into view, drawing her attention with his words and polite bow. She rose to her feet, admiring for the briefest of moments his chiseled figure. She was most definitely not the kind of woman who swooned and awed over males, but Nicolas had certainly drawn her attention, being not only handsome but a proficient fight, great fighter,  and seemingly, from their last meeting, of good character. He most definitely had her interest, and she greeted him warmly. Matching his nod, she replied "Likewise. Though I must say it is good to meet you once again. How does the loner life bode for you?" she asked with a smile, genuinely interested. She had not bothered to examine his scent thoroughly, and had not noticed the scents of others on his pelt as of yet.