Lost Creek Hollow Dismayed I'm a later bloomer

Injuries are fine since she's trespassing!

Father Fire was weak in this land.
Back when she was Ophelia, the girl could not have imagined living without his wrathful gaze on her. Certainly not for lack of wishing, for she had secretly hated the Father ever since he stole her dear Rose. It simply seemed unthinkable. She could never have guessed, would never have thought that reality itself would be so different in other places.
And absolutely nothing could have prepared her for all of this freezing cold... white stuff. It cluttered the ground and clung to the plants and trees — so very many trees! Oh, it was all different here.
And the closer she got to the trees, the more wolves she smelled here. The hair along her back rose, unsettled by the clash between this information and her own instincts. She ought to leave; there were too many strange wolves here to be safe. Yet she couldn't help but wonder; what would make a wolf stay in one place for so long? Did it have something to do with Father Fire's absence?
Was this what wolves did when they didn't have to spend their whole lives running?
Oblivious to the danger she was in, the girl in the reverie wandered through the claimed territory like a child in a wonderland. She turned all around, trying to see the sky through the trees and knocking white stuff from the plants just to see what would happen.
She didn't expect to run into someone so soon. She definitely didn't expect to see him fussing over some mossy stone that smelled like herbs. It was all so strange, she didn't stop to think about it for a moment. But she never really did that anyway, did she?
Hello, She greeted the dark wolf as if their meeting were the most natural thing in the world. He smelled like the trees — or rather, they smelled like him. What did you do to this place? Why does it smell like you?