a toe over the line

It would be presumptuous of someone to believe she knew where pack lands lay in this continent. The myriad of scents scattered around was quite confusing at times as some of the lines crossed over the other and some smelled faint as if ones hadn't been there in a while. Either way, she felt it necessary to make her way across the land to get to know it better. Everything was different here. Mountains rose up in jagged patterns and valleys spread out vast enough to take days to cross. Some areas smelled of blood and others smelled of secret nights between two wolves together.

What was good about this land, putting the heightening scent of wolves aside, was the bounty of prey. Somehow, no matter the overcoming numbers of wolves she could scent, the amount of prey smelled more. That she was thankful for as her tongue licked at her lips to clean off the last bits of her meal. Feeling full and rested beneath the wide oak she rested against, her shimmering blue eyes looked out across the plains that spread before her. Tallgrass nearly up to her chest folded in the summer breeze that browned at the tips. She could feel the dryness of the dirt beneath her paws as she stood and gave her coat a good shake.

Nearby, she could sense that she neared pack borders, but that she didn't worry about. Her intentions were harmless. She knew no one here and had no information to give. Nor was she interested in joining any pack that offered it to her. She had business to attend to and by the smell of it, it wasn't here. Pausing for a moment to get her bearings about her, she stood still as a statue. Letting the sun overhead bake into the fur along her back, she lets out a quiet sigh. What was she even doing here? The question arose in her thoughts as a particular rustle of grass caught her attention.

Was someone there?