Silvertip Mountain Ring any bells?

At his words - lost, mainly - the memories began to trickle back. Two wolves in the dark of night, earth damp and open, the incessant croaking of frogs on the air. Words, spoken as if from far away; You've been alone for a long time, haven't you? The fear and pain of those lonely days had been lessened by his presence, and the kindness that he'd shown her had kindled a warmth in her heart that'd kept her going for the few more weeks she needed - he'd tided her over until she'd met her true King.

And "I'm Doe," she was able to say, the name rolling off her tongue as easily as Atoll had these past few months. She was glad to see him, too, and happy that he'd survived the famine and found a home as she had. "Doe Cairn, now. The beta of my pack - I live not far from here, actually, in the arms of Stavanger Bay."

With her nose, she indicated the way from which she'd come, and came a bit closer to run her nose over his rangy form, gathering information from his musky scent. The loneliness she'd sensed in him those many moons ago still pervaded him, the sorrow hanging in his fur like any other smell. It seemed as though he'd not faired quite as well as she had, but again, he was going blind - he was lucky enough to be part of a pack at all.

Still, she had compassion for the man. He had been kind to her at a time when she'd most needed it. Perhaps there was some way she could be kind in turn - but how?