whoomp there it is

She felt like she had been traveling all her life her paws felt worn, but by now the blood had turned to scabs, and the scabs slowly were becoming calluses. She just wished the process woukd hurry up, she was sick of every step hurting. She was bone weary by the time she saw the cave, and couldn't quell the impulse to head towards it. Just a few hours of catching up on her z's. Just a short nap. It couldn't hurt, right? Those that chased must surely be far, far from her trail by now. She had barely paused to sleep for days, hadn't stopped to eat. She made herself relentless, pretended she was fearless. She had to be, if she was to survive. She thought of the heroines of the stories she had read since she was just a wee babe. They would have invaded their captors and found companions by now. Wolves to tell her compelling tale to, and daring escapes. She would have been surrounded by companionship if she could only be a character from a tale.

Instead she was alone, and cold. Her paws had gone numb, and she didn't know if it was from the cold or feeling had just ceased to exist in her weary paws. Just a few hours, she could allow herself that.

She slunk wearily towards the cave entrance, her nose stuffed up from breathing in chill winds for hours. She couldnt scent anything a foot in front of her face, and mistakenly believed she was alone. She entered the cave at the same moment a voice spoke out she startled like a cat, fur puffing up and jumping to the tips of her toes. She froze in that awkward position as the wolf continued to speak. Saying how they were alone. This wolf wasn't here for her, this was a coincidence, no?

"H-hello?" She cleared her throat, and tried to put some iron in her voice "good day to you!" Or was that rude? Dear God, how did someone greet another wolf?