Redhawk Caldera I will be waiting for you on the other side of the frozen pines

"Hmm." So she wasn't familiar, and this posed a perplexing case. Perhaps they had simply crossed paths, and nothing further. That would explain why she felt a dim familiarity with him. Though she struggled to piece broader details together, she had realized, early on, she could remember faces and the looks of places better than anything else. Names still dangled beyond her grasp, but appearances stuck with her even through the fog that clouded her mind. Maybe she had just always been good with those.

But despite his lack of recognition, the boy did give her a piece that clicked into the history she had managed to construct since she'd found the river and followed the waterways here. Her scars certainly suggested a battle, and when piled with the recollection of flashing teeth and the sting of another's blood that sometimes crept through the vast recesses of her mind - "Yeah. They did. I think that's when I lost them." And she felt a prickling fear. Had he been around for the battle? He couldn't have been - unless she'd been out longer than she knew. No, her wounds were still too fresh. They reminded her of reality, and she stilled her mind to focus again on how this boy could help her. "I took a fall into a river and must've hit my head hard, or lost enough air that it did something to my memory. I remember this place - but I don't. That's why I came back. I hoped this place would give me some answers, but, well, you know," she gave a wolfish shrug and glanced around to accentuate the emptiness. She returned her gaze to him, "Could you tell me about the wolves who lived here?"