She had been rather popular lately. Between death threats and threats of war and vague undefined threats, and wolves wanting to join Yfir, Katja was managing to draw more attention to herself in the first days of Yfir than the very private wolf had drawn her whole time in Ebony even despite holding a festival and a blot.
So, when another call came from the borders for her it was not wholly unexpected. What was, however, was the obvious youth of the caller, and Katja's brows lowered thoughtfully. Why was a child, alone, calling for her? Were she accompanied by a full adult would not they have called for her? Or perhaps the child's voice was meant to lull her into complacency, to draw her recklessly into an ambush before her wounds had healed from her last battle.
It was with a healthy dose of caution that she ghosted toward the sepia-toned female. The pup was clearly less than a year old but appeared to be coming up on it fast if Katja was any sort of judge. "Are you lost?" was the viking's blunt question.
