Neverwinter Forest birds of a feather

As of late, Neverwinter Forest had been her haunt of choice. There was a herd passing through the area that she kept up with, waiting for one she knew to have been injured to keel over. It was falling behind by the day, and Tiger was fortuitous enough to be around for it. The pickings would be rather slim otherwise, and Tiger knew rabbits wouldn't be enough to keep her stomach full for long enough to survive the length of time she might have to. The woman didn't want to join a pack around these parts without her sister in it to leave them when she inevitably found her... but at the end of the day, Tiger also knew she'd eventually do what she needed to to survive.

The slight and spry Irish lady sniffed at the wind, ears swiveling as she caught the tail-end of a conversation, noting a question asked at the end. And as she came around the bend, she observed the other turn tail without so much of a word. What'd you do to scare her off, she quipped dryly, her wedgelike muzzle turning from departing wolf to the one that remained.