King Elk Forest -- and we will rise above, open our eyes up

The woman is new; at least, she thinks. watching her now from the cover of dead underbrush, the girl scents the air again and declares her scent foreign, at least to her. She is hurt, too; something the girl realizes with interest. Her ears flick forward, and she forges out into the open, approaching the woman in what she hopes is an entirely unthreatening manner. She chuffs a greeting, waiting for the woman's attention to fall to her.

 "you're hurt"  She says, offering a moment later, "I can help." The words seem odd; to offer one's services to a stranger is wrong. But they are packmates, and, surely, this is what packmates do. Besides, the prospect of someone to practise on help is appealing.