Flycatcher Downs Though I am old with wandering

The meat was cold, dry, and tough, but it went down all the same. It would sate and fuel her for now, until she could catch something fresh and truly dine. The crow she'd followed settled in the bristly grass nearby, and she spun her blue eyes up to watch it. She wasn't opposed to it, for it led her here, but Saena didn't want to compete with it, either. A low rumble in her throat warned it from trying to harass her. It seemed to work, for the crow took wing, and it wasn't until she looked away that she realized its true reason for leaving was the approach of a second wolf.

Saena lifted her head and hunched her shoulders. She wasn't overly possessive over the old carcass, but she was defensive, even though Fox didn't trigger any memories. Saena's old hatred of the woman was buried under the fog of amnesia, but there was still something unsettling about the tiny she-wolf, as if Saena should know her from somewhere. She got the same feeling from all wolves with that coat colour, though she didn't understand it. Her unease only grew when Fox threw out her name. Saena's muzzle crinkled with mistrust, but it was confusion that mainly comprised her expression as she asked, "what do you want?" without any hint of recognition whatsoever.