Qeya River what's the word, captain?

Brazenly, she ventured forward when he said that someone else had been living here. She sniffed, the guard hairs along her nape bristling. She growled softly. This was a bit too close to their own pack's borders for her comfort, for wolves who did not exist as peaceful neighbours like the wolves of Sapphique. Scraps of bones were left behind, signs that the wolves here had thrived, living off the prey in the area. "Who wath it?" She asked, sounding lightly offended that they potentially hadn't declared themselves. 

But going through their leftovers and trying to find things that were useful? Heck yes, she'd find things, and she'd bet that she'd find something that they might miss. She grunted lightly, and began to sniff and scout around the area, looking for another cache or den that they might have used. Cold held things in place, and kept them from rotting. Bones and bits of feathers and furs were scattered around. 

She wandered without a tether until she found another place that appeared to have been someone's sleeping place. A well-worn divet in the earth, and when she investigated and pawed through a light layer of snow, she woofed in surprise. Fur. The skin of some animal, used for bedding at the time.