Blackfoot Forest Just don't give up

She's still not thinking about it, so she wanders farther from IkKanattuk. Her travels are punctuated by returns to the territory, a few days of resting and putting prey in the caches, but she can't quite tame her need to be on the move for long.
There's nothing remarkable about the forest at first glance, aside the thick scent of fox in the air. She's entered from the meadow, quickly losing sight of the mountains looming on the other side of the trees. But the place is agreeable enough, and she doesn't know yet if she means to cross over the mountains. She carries on west with this internal debate; it would be an unwise decision, but such an affinity runs through her veins.
She catches the scent of the stranger belatedly, and considers moving to intercept the other wolf. Contemplating turns out to be pointless a few moments later — her natural path has taken her within sight of... yet another white wolf. She cocks her head to the side automatically and hesitates, intrigued at this fresh-budding pattern in her life. He's large and aged, simply walking as she is; it's the lack of room for assumption that draws her farther forward ultimately, chuffing to announce herself even if he's already seen her.