Heron Lake Plateau I wanna stand up, a hundred feet tall

Who was this one then?  She approached with an easy authority, and when she got closer, Rosalyn judged her to be closer to her own age, if not older.  It was a surprising sight - she was used to being the oldest by far, and starting to wonder if she wasn't these parts of the wilds.

Hold on... why was she...

"Do I," she began, and then cut off as memory finally kicked in.  Redhawks.  Fuck, how had she forgotten?  "Redhawk Caldera.  You moved."  The statement had the sound of a question that had been bothering her a while, and just now come to light.  It had been a long-ass time, and she definitely hadn't expected Red's old pack to be way out here.  Red... Kitten... old stingey (as she referred to him, not knowing his name).  None of them seemed to be around - she'd have known some of their scents anywhere.  "Glad to see they found you before you croaked," Rosalyn finally finished, her own half smile coming to match.