Whitefish River she's a bad mama jama

Just before answering Evergreen’s question, Dulce froze, ears spinning in search of the source of an odd screech. There were a lot of strange noises in the Wilds; she wondered if she might ever get used to them. Sure, she finally replied, now back up to pace, Before coming here, some while. Being more open about her whereabouts was something that would take some getting used to. 

I know one, Dulce continued as her mental map began to materialize, Al sur, Esouth from here. They call themselves the Forest. What little she did or didn’t know about them seemed irrelevant; another trip would undoubtedly be made, and likely soon. 

Dulce thought for a moment about what other packs she’d come across, wondering if any were worth mentioning. An, eh, a sanctuary is over the mountains. Very kind. She contemplated asking if Evergreen was interested in travel but decided against it. Do you scout?