Grouse Thicket A black fly in your chardonnay.

One would think someone so focused and attentive to the forest floor might miss the attentions of a roaming stranger but, in fact, Minerva was hypervigilant due to her growing hunger. So when the woman crossed paths behind her, Minerva was not so oblivious; she saw movement in the corner of her eye which could have been anything, and when she turned to glance towards it with all the confidence of a proper hunter, she saw the woman.

At first there was some distance between them. Even so, Minerva could tell by their conformation and stride that they were of the feminine persuasion, giving her a reason to slacken her otherwise tense body.

Within moments the warm-toned shape of the other woman was standing alongside Minerva. They were bold; their innate trust that Minerva was not a foe was a welcome sight since she had been away from her sisters for quite a while. The siren sniffed the air casually to learn what she could of the stranger, but turned her ears attentively to the welcoming sound of their voice. 

At first Minerva did not know what to say. Yes, she was lonely and lost without her sisters, without the guidance and presence of her Mothers. Was it right for her to befriend a native of these woods? Was this what Mother Sea was so adamantly pushing her towards? A flash of doubt ran through her mind but stopped cold before it could spawn deeper worries in her heart; Minerva had to trust herself, because she was a daughter of the Sea and Moon. They would not lead her so astray.

Yes, please. Commented the she-wolf with a mirrored smile. The stranger seemed to be in good health and was not so put-off by Minerva's investigation of the area. They held the scents of children and other wolves upon their coat, which begged the question, Have I come too far, ah, too near, a home? The last thing Minerva expected was that her gods would put her in harms way on purpose; she was devoted to them entirely, but did not know what to make of the wolves so far inland yet.