Permafrost Hollows Who does she think she is?

Raelle seethed her way north, traveling in such a foul mood that no one dared to approach her. Strangers turned the other direction when they saw her, and Rae was glad for it. If she had to speak to anyone, she was certain it would only be to tell them to fuck off. That was what everyone seemed to want to do anyway, eventually. Why not skip the middle? It was a waste anyway.
For some reason, the silver-pawed wolf she crossed paths with under the shadow of a cold mountain did not inspire the same immediate agitation. He was alright to look at; maybe that was it. Rae still eyed him with disdain as she drew to a halt some distance off, her expression equal parts expectant and judgmental. Very speak, peasant vibes.