Blackfoot Forest Wishing I could go back

Grezig scoffed this time. “Of course I’m sure,” she said. “I have wandered this forest for the past two days and that scream has been ringing in my ears the entire time. What did you think it was? A ghost?” There was clear derision in her voice as she asked this. Grezig was not the best at making friends or good first impressions. And she had no reason to show off or be nice to this wolf, not out here. Were she at the borders of a pack, or were these two packmates, she would have been a bit kinder, but that was not the case.

Still. That didn’t mean she would ignore questions as long as said questions weren’t offensive or anything. “I am from far away, from a forest to the east. I have traveled far from home to arrive here.” She blinked, her social graces—what little she had—finally kicking in. “Where are you from?” she asked, trying to be conversational, although her tone of voice suggested that she was bored already. She was not a woman of words so much as actions. Were the two of them hunting together, or even sparring, she would have felt a bit more energetic about their meeting. As it was, she supposed she would have to suffice with conversation.