Whitefish River Merlot

Over the next few days, since her arrival at the Blacktail Deer Plateau, Wraen had established that they had chosen a crowded corner as their next settlement. Compared to the Sentinels, where one neighbours resided on an island in the ocean and the other were located in, what could be considered a land "far far away", these she could hear, smell and occasionally observe from the distance. And, while her travelling companions were not a pack and therefore did not have to adhere to the usual rules, Wraen thought that in this case it would be a common courtesy to introduce herself to the pack, who had claimed lands nearby, and see, who they were and how friendly they were going to be to the temporary residents of the forest. 

First she explored the scent marks left along the borders, to get a vague idea of, who lived here, and was surprised to find out that at least two scents seemed a bit familiar. She racked her brain to recall, if any of her old acquaintances had claimed home in the flatlands, but none came to her mind and she concluded that, to whomever the smell passports belonged, must have been someone she had met maybe once, twice at most and a very long time ago. Then she chose a good spot to sit down (a diplomatic and safe distance from the borders, in case the residents were not friendly at all), checked the area behind her, to see, which would be the best route to flee, if it ever came to that, and then tipped her head back and howled for anyone from the pack to come and meet her. 

With this done, she waited.