Honeyed Pasture inferno

There was not much that could ease Doe's restless spirit these days. She'd ranged to and from Arturo's forest more times than she could count, but somehow, she hadn't come across Furiosa yet. The woman had told her to call, but something kept her voice caged deep in her throat. It was not yet the time, she knew, though she wasn't sure why.

So she'd ranged the other direction, toward Donnelaith and then just as swiftly, away. She did not want to see the forest folk; not of any kind. Toward the mountain she headed, thinking that she might visit Grayday, but all scents of his pack had faded. They were dead or they had moved, but either way, they were gone.

Feeling slightly sour, now, Doe had turned inland and padded along, stalking through the land until she forgot her temper. The chill of the wind in her fur helped to ease her spirit, and the smell of another wolf was enough to distract her from her woes. Ears perked and swivelling madly, Doe changed her course and headed toward the dark creature trotting toward her territory.

"Hail," she called when she was near enough to smell the other. Her eyes raked over the other shewolf, memorizing her features. No one Doe knew, but she would know her the next time they met.