Blacktail Deer Plateau it means beauty

Sorrel looked on in silence, anxiously biting at the inside of her cheek. When Forrest spoke, it was enough of a surprise for her to clamp her jaws shut a bit too hard and draw blood from the thin skin. It was as if something beckoned her from within the walls of the den out into the open. Something about Forrest drew her near, though she couldn't place what exactly it was. Sorrel, she replied, now limping over to where the other woman sat.

Once she'd closed the distance, Sorrel sat back with her legs splayed out on display. The injuries she had sustained were clear, from the scars to the frostbite to the twisted, discolored leg she'd been battling with for the last few weeks. Her head hung low and her eyes stayed on the ground in an effort to convey her submission and helplessness. If Forrest attacked, there wouldn't be much to be done about it; Sorrel was still sick and injured with not much knowledge on defense.