Greatwater Lake some women are lost in the fire, some women are built from it

Leaving the red wolf behind, Doe found herself remembering where it was she ought to be going - the bay, of course. She had a pack there, a lover - and she was Atoll. Den-mother. They would surely miss her, and Sharkbait might be wanting something more to soothe her throat. Slippery elm bark had been found in abundance on this longer trek, and there would be plenty to help the foundling girl.

She stopped short when her musings counjured said child, and Atoll crept toward the weak-scented black ball with trepidation - Skellige would surely be missing this one, if he did not already miss his Atoll!

But Sharkbait is a gold wolf, bigger than this one, the sensible voice reasoned, forcing her to look again and more closely at the child. This one was small and dark; couldn't possibly be Sharky. It seemed silly now to have mistaken them, but already, there were other thoughts on Atoll's mind.

"Hail, little wolf," she said gently, coming up beside the floundering child. "What are you doing out here all on your own?"