Honestly she really didn't have another choice but to try and trust this unknown male. Otherwise she would spend the night in agony with her cramping stomach and fearful mind. As time has passed Fjallraven's mind had slowly begun to clear so that she might look upon herself and waht she found was disturbing and unsatisfying. Fjallraven hated her own weakness. No wonder her mother had called her pathetic. She truly was. Without her mother she had wasted away into nothing - though she had been almost nothing before - and she had found that death seem preferable than being without her mother. It was a strange way to live, a warped way, but she hadn't really spoken about it with Reich. She was content to just live with him in silence, happy he cared for her, happy to be alive, but always that nagging worry that she would be kicked out because she was a weakness, a liability.

So she had answered him and to her relief he did not perk up with a violent look about him. She could hardly see him though she keenly felt his presence as he maneuvers through the dark in search for her. The scrape of his claws and brush of his pads across stone. It is chilling and she hears ever minute noise, the inhale of his breath, the exhale, she thinks she can ever hear the sound of his heartbeat but it was probably just hers and the blood pounding through her.

Closer he comes until she can vaguely make out the patterns of his color, the bright white of his fur easier in contrast to the ebony or tan. Her pupils are wide now, the shadows pressing them open to catch any spare light they can, and she notices the scars upon his face. Her violent trembling stills with the silence of prey that has been caught in a headlight. This male didn't look anything like Reich. He looked like a killer.

Yet before she can decide what to do - bolt or die - he lowers his head and stops with space between them. She blinks as he speaks to her, his own shyness making her ears slowly start to lift in curiosity. Maybe he wasn't bad. Maybe some other wolf had attacked him like she figured he would attack her. Could he hunt? Probably. She was the only one she knew that couldn't besides Viserys but he was a pup and apparently not all pups hunted.

"I-...." she pauses, her voice angelic and sweet as it echos about the rock walls. "I'm lost." The last is said on a whispered sigh as she drops her head onto her paws in a dejected manner. Her stomach grumbles in a loud, vicious manner as if to also say and hungry! If only she knew the past of this male, she would tremble and run. "Do you know where we are?" Now she perks up, ears erect and head lifting as she tentatively sniffs the air to better get to know him. "I'm Fjallraven."