Wild Berry Meadow reweave

His words are easily noncommittal, conversation. He settled somewhere for the winter, just as she had—albeit a little late for the season—and she wonders if he intends to stay. Some wolves simply cannot stay in one place for long but she knows that is not for her. Her excursion away from the caldera is easily placed on lack of information on how she really got here, a clouded mind preventing her from finding the memories. They are there, and faint, but she doesn’t know if she will find them. Or if they are even worth finding.

“Because they are not my family,” she tells him. They’d done something nice for her, even when she did not ask, and there’s the compelling feeling she needs to repay them in some way. “It isn’t what I’m used to. My family… isn’t very close,” she explains with an indifferent shrug. She does find herself taking another step closer with a low, playful rumble in her chest. “I’m West,” she finally introduces though her steps do not stop and her tail whips against him like a cat when she’s close and proceeds forward away from him.