Snowforest Taiga living without you

Better? She offered with a raise of her eyebrows, a quirk to the corners of her lips. Then he exhaled. The heat of breath across her face wasn't too unpleasant, but the stench that rose from the child could've been compared to a compost heap; it was closer to the smell of a dumpster sitting behind a fine dining establishment: herbed squirrel with a fiddlehead coulis, stuffed to the bottom of said dumpster in a brown paper bag. It was, to be curt: vile.

Her eyes were watering but she didn't let her expression break. B-better, much better, Stryx commended, refusing to inhale while he was showing off his new-found superpower. She lifts her head to stare at the sky for a moment, blinking rapidly, taking a breath in through her nose like she's coming up for air after a long swim. Then she settles back to her haunches and regards him.

So, kid, Stryx started, wanting to ask him if this den was home, except she sort-of deduced the answer already. He looked young so he couldn't have been far from home, except there were no other adults around, and he was well marked as a pack beast. Someone must have been missing him. How did you get here? I bet there are plenty of flowers back home, right?

A moment later, Can you show me? It'd be easier to get him home by having hm retrace his route, so, that's the plan going forward.