Ravensblood Forest Each time unknown words come to mind

A frown pressed upon the wolf’s swarthy features – he was familiar with the stench of fire and destruction – a smell that stirred at his chest in a bout of panic as he thought of the dead sequoia trees in Donnelaith. He made to investigate -- and when the familiar voice of Screech echoed not far off, the shadowrunner realized he had been closer than he had thought.
 
He came upon his pack mate. The grey boy was proving to be an asset, despite his missing eye, and while Constantine offered a brief nod to Screech, his gaze was not long straying to the fallen form of the pale she-wolf. The smoky smell came from her – offering why it had been so faint to the Regal. Pausing, he took her in – exhausted, blackened fur in places where it was likely she had avoided what would be a painful death. “Where are you from?” His fiery gaze drifted between them both, waiting to be filled in on the details of this interlude.