Panther Park like an ancient masterpiece

The rain did not bother Moorhen, who had already spent a good portion of her life wet and cover in salt sand. In fact, the freshwater shower was rather refreshing, and left her with energy leftover to head inland, following the Whitefish River. This waterway provided her supper, most nights, and the seawolf was generally content with herself and her solitude.

Until, abruptly, she was not.

The dark erne ventured away from the river, into a nearby woodland. There was not anything in particular that called to her from this place; the erne was only following her whims, up until she caught the scent of another shewolf nearby. Younger than her, but nearly a woman.

Tracking this scent was easy enough, but as she sensed it growing stronger and fresher, she stopped and gave a low, querying howl to announce her presence, and to test the other's temperament toward her company.