Kintla Flatlands with my boombox over my shoulder

The woman isn't very talkative, but then again, she would not expect loners to be. Especially the sort that would attempt to survive winter alone. Gnawing at her haunch in silence, she is silent a beat before speaking again, eyeing the woman as she chews on a tough piece of gristle.  "there's a pack south of here, Blackfeather. they're a nasty bunch - I'd steer clear of them." She can, at least, pass on the knowledge she now knows,  it feels wrong not to pass on the warning. The woman would have a tough enough time surviving alone without the inconvenient of wandering by a bunch of blood-thirsty kidnappers.