Big Salmon Lake I've got good intentions

Of course, Towhee couldn’t hear any response given, though she took the figure’s movements as proof of life. She pushed back onto all fours when the stranger—or so she assumed, at this point—didn’t make any effort to rise. Maybe they were injured or sick. Keeping her family in mind, the Redhawk slowly rounded the lake, approaching with caution.

She rolled to a halt perhaps three yards away from the prostrate wolf. Now that Towhee could both see and smell her to some extent, she felt like they’d crossed paths before. But she couldn’t remember any specifics at the moment. Maybe exchanging a few words would jog her memory. In any case, the she-wolf didn’t smell like she had any physical issues, so that was good.

Moving a little closer, Towhee hisspered, Not dead. But are you dying? Or just trying to rest, and I’m interrupting?