She was not exactly.. practiced, when it came to pack manners. Her attraction to the beach was what she cared for, less so her intrusion in Glorall. Yet his jest drags her attention from the salty smell of the air, and in retrospect she might consider this a moment where her first intrigue is sparked in him. For now, she only offers him a small chuckle, and the slight roll of her eyes. Men, she thinks, are always right in their own minds.

When he emerges fully from the depths of the shadows, she allows her oddly-colored orbs to move over the rest of his body. She notes the different shades of dark, much like how her own body held many different shades of dirt. He seems to question her intentions, being here, and while she might have normally found herself annoyed, her interests in the land won out. "Yes, it was by chance that I stumbled into this place. Believe it or not, sir, but Fate has a sneaky way of guiding things." She was not some heretic, or destiny obsessed child seeing the world through rose-colored glass, but she did believe in some higher power that often had it's hands in playing with the going-ons of the world. Such as making imprints out of enemies, and strangers. It's own personal sort of soap-opera.

Yet she seems eager to drop the subject of fate and destiny, silent feet bringing her to this strangers side as he leads her away from the clearing. It could be considered naivety, her willingness to follow, but she kept her eyes moving constantly. Assessing their surroundings and making sure she would not be walking into any sort of trap. She doubts it, but her mother raised her to be wary. Strangers were very infrequently kind just to be so.

"What is this place, exactly? Who do you bow to? What is he like?" Judith offers the topic, before groaning audibly. "No, boring. There's always time for the fine text, let's play a game?" Her maw raises slightly, her nose locking onto the scent of the water and in which direction it was in. It was almost a dead giveaway of her intentions, but still, she offers these words as she bounces away from the darker wolf. "I'll race you!" Her feet allow her to take off into the trees, leaving the trodden path and probably making poor Elohim regret his decision to bring her into the packland. Sure, a young wolfess was unlikely to cause much trouble.. but a young wolfess had a playful side that she had yet to shake off with age.