Hideaway Strath Lend me a helping hand

The black Femme had returned to the territory but she hadn’t really found what she had sought out there and she did not think she had found what she sought here, in this she was confused. She wanted to be ‘out there’ in the big world and she wanted to be here with the wolves she was beginning to consider as something ‘more’

Only time would tell which longing would win out in the end, though her heart was tugging more and more toward this pack, for she had returned even with the ability and the means to have left and never return, as she had done once before.

Once her paws hit the pack lands she felt the need to mark her territory and re-add her scent to the markers the pack placed regularly and so he found herself traipsing the outskirts o fat pack territory looking both in and out at the same time. How fitting for her emotional state.

It was not long before a wolf come toward her, this one she did not know by sight, only scent. She scented the air as the Overseer came toward her. She allowed her white eye blue gaze to wash over him and take in his form. She paused in her marking; kicking her rear paws two and three times flighting dirt and cleaning any possible or imagined spots of liquid, as she moved to greet him, (Akin to a human wiping their hands on their pants I wager)

She bobbed her head and greeting and drew closer offering her name first which is something she had never done to any wolf before “I am Whrist” She smiled fondly at him and sat down continuing to allow her gaze to peruse his body.