”Hello there. Don’t mind me, I’m just tracking this smell,” he says, and her face contorts into that of concentration as she tries to catch a hint of the scent he follows; she thinks that there is something, a faint yet unfamiliar odor on the breeze but she can’t be sure that it is the right one. So many wolves must have come here before him that the smell that barely registered in her nose could be anyone. For all she knew, he was tracking a ground scent, not airborne at all. If that were the case, she might just look silly if she continued to stand here sniffing at empty air; in fact, she knows she would.

”Is it important? Am I distracting you? I apologize,” she says, but she makes no move to leave him there to continue on his little hunt. Quite the contrary, her feet carry her padding ever closer, her loping gait bringing her up beside him as if they were long lost friends rather than strangers for the first time. She eyes him sideways, sizing him up and drinking him in all at once, satisfied when she notes that his eyes - though flecked with gold - are not the frightening yellow that haunted her very few remaining memories.

”I’m Loup Garou,” she says casually, though she isn’t quite certain that it is truly her name. She had given it to the she-wolf before but even then she hadn’t been certain. It felt right, had come to the surface of her mind without much contemplation so she assumed it must be correct. Given the circumstances, she simply couldn’t be sure - it was just one more thing on a long this of things that she didn’t know. It bothers her, feeling so uncertain of everything but there isn’t much to be done about it now.

She’ll just have to find her memories, scattered though they may be. How long might this take, she wonders?

Her eyes lock with the male wolf’s in what might’ve been a challenge had she not been the exact opposite of hostile, though it is true that she is a dominant. Her encounter with the other she-wolf had revealed that to her, her impulse taking over and refusing to allow her to take a submissive stance. Hopefully he wouldn’t see her as a challenge as some dominants do. That could be a disaster in itself.

”Mind if I come along? I’m looking for something myself, perhaps I’ll find it scattered along your path,”she says, her voice soft and sweet like spring honey. Perhaps he would accept her offer, or maybe not - either way, she meant to find the answers she wanted whether it be with him or without. Maybe he would abandon his hunt and amuse her in other ways, she wouldn’t be opposed to that either.

At this point, she wouldn’t be opposed to anything that could take her mind off of those cold, spite-filled yellow eyes.

Despite herself, the thought sends a shiver down her spine.

She must find the beast. She would.