Bitterroot Valley Been Running, Running, Running

His answer was vague, and she assumed that the good wolves were scattered around. She, it seemed, would merely have to take up the task of finding them. She was slightly relieved that he couldn't think of any terrible wolves off the top of his head; that rid her of the fear that the wolves of her mother's imagination lived, and lurked here somewhere. "I think I'll head south. It's supposed to be warmer in the south, isn't it?" She'd had a brief conversation with some songbird once, and what little she'd been able to understand had led her to the conclusion that it had been flying south, somewhere warm. Perhaps, if she walked long enough, she'd find a good place before winter caught up with her completely.