Silver Moraine 'Cause nothing hurts like a woman can

the scent trail weaved through the rocks, faint, yet there. her brow furrowed, unable quite to tell if the trail dated before or after her attack. she moved with a limp still, ear tattered yet healed enough to allow her to shift it atop her skull without pain. then, beyond, she sights something pale moving through the rocks. she is still, watching, until scent moves her way and she recognizes the man for who he is. 

she could simply turn away and leave him now, but some stubborn part of her has her take a few steps forward, closing the distance between them to an amount that could easily be widened one more should her words be taken poorly (of which the probability is high). a chuff, and then soon follows her message lest he catch sight of her and make any immidiate move that would stop her from relaying it. "there's a male, white and tan. he's dangerous, and attacks at random. your number should know." she is quiet, gaze watching him carefully.