Deepwood Weald I'll unwrap my fingers, free my foot and run away

she mulled over the options for all of two seconds, before replying, "we should get moving." her gaze flickered to Ceara's as if to ask if that's alright, knowing she was reliant on the woman, and very much not the other way around. she was sick and tired of this monotonous forest, anyways, and eager to be out, even if some memory she couldn't quite bring to find offered a heavy sense of foreboding. 

standing, and waiting for the woman to show her the way to start limping, she squinted up at the sky, which, fortunately, seemed to be getting lighter. "it's in the northern mountain range. led by rannoch, and some other wolves originally from moonspear."  it wasn't moonspear's scent on the girl's fur - she knew that much - and so she did not hesitate more than a moment before offering the information.