Barrow Fields Let's go back, back to the beginning

A voice lifts her from her thoughts, and she turns, eyeing the russet colored male, her dark eyes with their odd penetrating stare seeming to read his very soul. 
After a moment she sits at the top of the mound she was currently perched upon, cocking her head. 
"There is a unique energy here, yes." She hums softly, her voice sounding a bit like those eccentric women who read palms or tarot cards, and try to sound mystical. Not that a wolf would know what tarot cards or tea leaves or anything else of the sort are. "There are spirits here...of wolves, and things not wolves but almost." 
She flicks an ear again as though pestered by something whispering in it.