knowledge is power

She continued her exploration in silence, seeking the water source she could scent. Much of the land was criss crossed with the scent trails of a family group, and though generally she would have avoided them completely today she simply continued on her way - neither going out of her way to intrude, nor deviating around them. So it was hardly a surprise when a wolf materialized. She stopped promptly, silver gaze fixing calmly on the bicolored eyes of her counterpart. She tilted her head in acknowledgement of the woman's correct assumption as to herpack. "I am no monarch," she declaimed sternly. "Yfir is no kingdom, to be bound by the petty foibles and beurocracies of such a one." She seated herself, sweeping her attention over to lands around them, automatically picking out landmarks as she searched. Alone. No signs of an ambush. She turned her attention back to the woman. "A leader, yes, I am that. I am Katja Finnvi of Yfir, and it is not my habit to remain hidden away in the north simply as I live there, and to know nothing of the lands around me. And you, stranger? You belong to no pack." There was no disgust or threat in her tone, just a simple intonation of observation, bland of any negative connotations.