Blackfoot Forest striding, powerful, into the arms of death

he inquires after who she runs with and is quick to offer his own details before she can take offense. the names 'merrick' and 'ursus', though she thinks she might've heard of them before, perhaps — or perhaps it is just something familiar about their sounds that inspire the slight swell of deja-vu to rise within her chest — for the most part draw up a blank in praimfaya's mind. she has been to many packs and met many wolves but she knows she's never met a merrick nor been to a ursus. i don't know them, she admits in a quiet, contemplative hum. not the first time she has not known of a pack and she seriously doubts it'll be the last.

i run with sagtannet. she offers in return, gesturing to the peeking tip of the spire.