Big Salmon Lake far from grace

Reassured by the stranger's neutral acknowledgement, Frøya felt comfortable to remain lingering by the water's edge whilst the dark female quenched her thirst. Frøya eyed the older female curiously, taking the opportunity to breathe in the other's scent once more now that she was in such close proximity. A menagerie of other scents clung to her coat; the smell of damp earth, pine trees and lavender were all distinguishable, along with numerous scents of the others in her pack — too numerous for Frøya to count, but pungent all the same. It made the female curious and she wandered how plentiful their territory must've been to support a pack of such a substantial size. 

Dark lashes blinked shut as her warm gaze quickly refocused on the darker female as Frøya caught her question. Dark brown dipped into a soft frown as she thought back over the past few days. Truthfully she had not seen anyone, having done her best to avoid confrontation from other wandering wolves. "No, I'm afraid not." Frøya replied honestly, her tone hinting at her concern for the injured wolf. Nostril's flared at the mention of the woman's son and her dark ears pressed back awkwardly, wondering now if her original concern had unwittingly been misplaced. "Oh, I'm sorry, is your son alright? Do you know what prompted the attack?!" Now Frøya was concerned. Concerned for the pack wolf's son, and concerned for herself.