Dragoncrest Cliffs Peppermint and apple pie

Well, thought Freesia as she finally came across the scent and signs of civilization, this is it. Okay, so it was the first pack she'd encountered since leaving the northern prairies after the fire swept through. And sure, she didn't know a damn thing about these wolves. But she didn't exactly need a handbook, did she? Wolves were wolves, and coming from a sheltered pack of perfectly ordinary folk, Freesia thought that was that.

She howled low and long for the attention of whoever claimed the tall seaside cliffs, her tail swishing pensively as she ran over a list of possible things she could say to secure a place here. She couldn't take much more of wandering around by herself with only herself for company. You'd be surprised how dreadfully boring one-sided conversations could get, but heaven forbid you start answering yourself. All that talking drove the prey away. So even if she didn't know a thing about them, she was prepared to tell them absolutely anything just for the promise of some living, breathing company.

Preferably company that could keep her warm and fed, and this group smelled like many.