get changed for your shore-going clothes

Well, it wouldn't do much good for Natalya to return to Pantheon empty handed. So far on her journey she had done a poor job of recruiting, finding no one at all to bring to their ranks. She had hoped to avoid the cursed battlefield, loathing the place for all of the unnecessary drama that unfolded there and for its despicable memories. But now, realizing that she was having little luck and not expecting to continue her journeying much longer, the Matriarch figured she needed to make a quick stop there.

The sable woman detoured to the place she detested most, grateful for the snow and cold covering the scents of many wolves and blood and gore. Her nose searched the air for the scents of any who had passed frequently, fresher scents being more powerful with the others minimized, and her tongue clicked away until an echo bounced back at her. It sounded like it came from the shape of a wolf for certain, so Natalya raised her head and tail in a regal stance and quickened her approach.

"I must ask you stranger, are you here seeking battle, or something else?"