Stavanger Bay Ain't no love when the wicked run

The tension in the air was thick. She didn't like it. Her small paws padded silently, yet her mind was racing, thoughts echoing in her mind. Knowing little to nothing about what was happening did not set well with her. It felt like home, and not in the good way. She was always the last to know, her small frame drawing almost no attention from her large family. Flicking her ears in irritation at those thoughts, her eyes wandered over the sea. It was like she said to the wolfess a while ago...it was like the desert. It was like home. She didn't realize how right she actually was. Whether that was a good thing or not, she had yet to decide. Had she made the right choice? Should she have stopped searching for her father?
Stopping, she shook hard, brows furrowed. No. She wasn't going to run. She wasn't her father. A promise was a promise, and her word meant something. Didn't matter how hard it got. The words that left her mouth had meaning, and she would prove it. To them. To him. Even if he wasn't around. Huffing, her tail swished as she moved forward. Her attitude today was rare. And for their sake, she hoped no one messed with her. Muscles tense, she turned towards the sea, hoping the air would calm her, as it had in the past. Nostrils flaring, she took in as much of the salty goodness as she could, closing her eyes. And calm her it did, although not as much as she wished, yet she felt some tension leave her. 
As she topped a small rise, her body paused, the sight of her friend laying there almost dejectedly bringing her to a stop. Did she want to even see anyone? Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly, her legs made quick time over the ground towards her. If she needed her, she was here, whatever happened. Her ears perked forward as she spoke, almost hesitant. Rosalyn?