The Sentinels peer'd forth the golden window of the east,

The burned forest to their border was a place Rosalyn did not often go; the ruin of it was not particularly cheering, and the ground had a quality not nearly so fine as walking on sand or healthy ground.  But every so often she'd traipse that way, feeling a mite more protective of this place than she had of Saltwinter.  There it had barely felt necessary to patrol; here she saw the prospect of a stronger crew and better home, and if she needed to fight a bit to protect that, she'd do so.

The wolf was a surprise, but immediately not deemed a threat because she was alone.  Rosalyn approached curiously, not coming too close, but near enough to see that she didn't look particularly well.

"You alright there?". She asked, likely shattering whatever peace the other found.