Greatwater Lake no one told you when to run--you missed the starting gun

A form of various gray hues approached, coming toward Maegi with determination in its step. It was a woman on the smaller side, with the scent of many wolves layering her pelt--none of whom she recognized. She also smelled like the mountains, and alarm bells went off in her head, thinking of the wolves who had taken her captive. But she kept her calm, steadying herself and preparing to flee, if needed.

"Hello," Maegi greeted, the quaver barely audible in her voice (but still there). "Can I help you?" It was a neutral tone--not overly friendly, but not hostile, either. Out here was fifty-fifty: the wolves were either allies or enemies, and it could swing either way. She began to size up the stranger, wondering where she had come from. Was she one of them?