Ravensblood Forest The Trumpets Sound

Godot had wormed her way towards the sea across unfamiliar lands and now she was far enough away that she didn't worry about the necromancers -- if they were that, which she highly suspected they were, regardless of what anyone might say.  Certain conspiracies were ones that she felt much safer desperately grasping to them rather than having them dismissed -- if anyone really wanted their lands to look so foul, they were likely wolves she wanted to avoid anyway.  Here it seemed like there were perhaps a few resident wolves, but nothing that to her seemed super permanent.  As far as she knew, she wasn't trespassing.  And if she was, well, she'd run.

But now she entered a different forest.  She wasn't quite to the sea yet though the air was distinctly salty.  It was near.  But it wasn't waves that met her ears, but instead someone.. singing?  Her ears cupped forward as her stance changed.  She crept forward, alert and cautious but not necessarily being stealthy, her footsteps audible on the patches of snow and dead underbrush.  Soon enough she spotted him, some other reddish wolf, though her own patterns were more clearly defined. Well, at least he didn't seem to be casting an incantation or something either.  Just some singing dude.  So, as he seemed to lose his train of thought, she interrupted, What is that?  The song, of course.  Godot had a very low charisma score, that was for sure.