The days were warmer, a mild winter the Amazon Queen considered, though mild was certainly putting it lightly. In comparison to the winter that was wreaking havoc upon the lesser packs of the Tlapentlanti Valley when she had departed in the temporary search for her son and his elite guardswomen this was much more like spring, and though she had not been curious enough to visit the packs that inhabited these unholy lands the Amazon could not help but wonder at their chances of survival should they ever have to bear such a terrible thing. Terrible, not to her, but in outlook of how they would see it, she assumed. Though being away from Coatl's Rise did not breed unease within her, it was oft upon her mind, though not as much as they mystery that had presented itself: what did her beloved Tezcacoatl see in these lands? Thus far, there was nothing here that she found appealing, and her opinion was not likely to change anytime soon. She could not wait to go home, yet she knew her patience would be well rewarded. After all, it was the one thing that her mother instilled within her mind: patience is a virtue to all but especially to a Queen...to a Coatl above all else.
Quetzalcoatl drew in a deep breath, ears roving back to her skull at the sound of approach. Her guard hair bristled with caution, her head moving to glimpse over a dainty shoulder as the woman, told by her scent and the soft tenor of her voice called out to her. The name itself was not familiar to her, but it held the familiar undertone of a language that she detested despite knowing with always a begrudged fluency. The ivory woman with crimson irises did not bear the accent of the Northmen but the name she used sounded as if it would be used by them and though it was hardly the fault of the girl, the Queen felt insult stir within her breast. Not only did she think she was a Viking, she had presumably used a male name. Of which, Quetzalcoatl was neither.
The ivory child (though clearly not a child) realized her mistake and in turn offered an apology and an explanation that she had been confusing the Queen with another. Quetzalcoatl supposed it was possible for she could not be the only chocolate colored wolf to roam these Wilds. “It is alright child,” Quetzalcoatl spoke to the pallid woman, offering her a genteel smile. Towards women the Queen was always softer, always warmer. They were kin in her mind, just not in blood nor name. “What is your name?” Quetzalcoatl inquired, inhaling the girl's scent. Tezcaocatl's scent was faint upon her fur which immediately struck her curiosity. “Where are you from?” She asked next without any hesitation. Perhaps she knew Tezcacoatl, if at least distantly. Distantly was better than not at all and if she was able to tell the Queen of her son then Quetzalcoatl intended to use the information to check up upon him without, hopefully, giving her connection to him away; for she was not ready to face him and interrogate him yet.