Wanderlust was certainly getting the better of Volkan. Though she knew that Indru probably wouldn't be too happy to find her ascending the Mountain of Dire for no reason other than boredom, the yearling couldn't shake the feeling of being stifled. Briefly she had wondered if pack life was right for her— which was a stupid question. Of course it was. It was just... Swift River that she felt uncomfortable with, she knew in her heart, and she couldn't place why. She liked the wolves fine (or in some cases, more than fine), but the promise of the Thicket to the north, of change and the chance to forge her own way in Relic Lore, was becoming more and more appealing by the day.

This didn't stop her from doing her duty to Indru's pack; after all, if she was here for the time being, she might as well help out like she promised to do. Perhaps that was her excuse for ascending the Mountain tonight as the Sun fell. Finding... food. It was partially the truth, right? Just in case, Volkan kept her eyes pealed for any kind of prey. Mountain goats hung out around here, right? Eventually, she reached Lost Lake, the familiar yet huge location wherein she'd encountered that dark wolf last time, the one she'd run away from like a scared puppy. In hindsight, she couldn't help but blame herself for being so stupid; yet, she still didn't want to run into him again, and so her eyes were pealed for him as well, in case any shadowy figures happened to step out of the brush.

But what Volkan saw wasn't that wolf, nor was it any sort of goat— but another wolf, large, white, and snarling. After a moment she stopped and spoke as Volkan watched from a short distance away. Her pale eyes narrowed... this wolf looked familiar, and her smell, she swore she could place it. Slowly, with a lowered head, she drew nearer to the stranger, not wanting to startle her. "Hello—?"

Volkan stopped, lifting a forepaw in hesitation as the female revealed her face. Admittedly the first thing she noticed was that scar, and the eye it crossed; she had seen many such injuries, and at one point in her younger days, had expected herself to have one like it someday. It was the mark of a warrior, or at least a wolf who had endured hardship... but the other eye, the golden one that caught the failing sunlight, was part of a face not so foreign to her.

"...Hey, I remember you," she mused slowly, a small smile crossing her peppery features. Vlah... oh boy, what was her name? If this was her, and Volkan was pretty certain it was her, then her name was... well, she couldn't remember. Their meeting seemed like ages ago. But she did remember the female's kindness, how at home she had made her feel, as a newcomer to Relic Lore.

She took a few steps nearer, remembering that friendliness, though perfectly aware that they might not be on the same terms as they'd been before. "You helped me, you gave me food," she added. Volk remembered her as some sort of angel, white-furred and regal. Now it seemed harder times had fallen upon her. What could've happened...?

Volkan carefully studied the large white female's reaction, a slight wrinkle in her brow as she tried, second by second, to ascertain whether or not she could remember. But her words confirmed that she at least remembered the encounter, and the young gray female's face spread into a shining grin as she nodded to confirm the white wolf's words. "Yeah, that's me! Volkan," she added, hoping that the mention of her name would spark some recognition in the other— and maybe she'd remind Volk of her own name, since it really had been a while since their meeting.

She stood still, tail swishing with the pleasantness of encounter, but it slowed somewhat as Volkan gave her an inquisitive look; the female seemed apprehensive for some reason. Perhaps whatever it was that had happened to her had changed more than just her appearance; the innate kindness was still there in the white wolf's expression, but it was a strange ectype of the wolf she remembered meeting, one that seemed jaded, wary. What was wrong, what was she so worried about—

—Was it the pack thing? Was this female in a similar situation to the one she'd met recently, Rebecca, who'd been exiled from Swift River's territory? Volkan realized she often forgot the weight of the scent that she carried and the influence it gave her; hoping that Vlah... Vlab... gah, it was on the tip of her tongue wouldn't seem so cautious. She lowered her head, tail falling still between her ankles, standing there earnestly before the wolf she remembered from so many days ago.

"You're— sorry, it's been a while, what's your name again?" There was no good way to ask, but she tried to be as polite as she could.

As soon as the name hit Volkan's ears, she remembered. Of course! Vlarindara. But yeah, "Vlar" was definitely easier. At her chuckle, the younger female laughed a little herself, glad that the other seemed to be calming down somewhat. She met Vlar's sentiment with a nod. "Good to see you too," she replied, eyes still inevitably tracing the scars that marred her face, though she hoped her smile hid any unwelcome curiosity. Yes, Volkan was doing well. The same probably couldn't be said for Vlar, could it? "I've become a part of a pack, Swift River. I joined to help them out when their numbers were lower, but I'd be lying if I said they haven't been taking care of me," she added, preferring to stick to the topic of Swift River instead of divulging her real pack situation— that she wouldn't be a River wolf for much longer.

But her face shifted into a slightly bewildered expression at the apology. What was she sorry for, what actions? The whole barking at the tree thing? Volk shrugged, cocking a brow at Vlar, drawing a little nearer so they could speak at a comfortable distance. Slowly she shook her head, a signal that she accepted the white wolf's apology... but when all was said and done, she still couldn't help but wonder.

"Vlar," she asked softly, her pale gaze lingering on those scars as she gingerly took a seat, "...What happened to you?" She was no longer the naive girl she'd been months before, inexperienced and lost in Relic Lore— and though she was ill prepared to help a wolf who'd been through hell, she knew she owed it to Vlar to try.

Slowly she nodded along with Vlar's story, which took continuously sad turns. Was Grizzly Hollow really in that bad of shape? Volk didn't know much about that pack, but it sounded like perhaps they, too, needed some extra help. Unfortunately, it didn't seem like Swift River was very generous, despite having a pretty altruistic leader, so she wasn't sure what she could do about it. And the new pack was going to have enough trouble supporting itself, let alone help out another pack. Her tail twitched as Vlarindara turned the conversation her way.

"Well, I met a wolf called Ruiko on my first day here in Relic Lore," she responded conversationally, pale gaze quickly sweeping the surroundings for signs of anyone else— just in case. "I ended up joining him. We went to Indru's pack to help 'em out in his absence, but now everything's back up to speed, soooo," she trailed off. "But... we're leaving soon. To form our own pack, I mean." It wasn't information she gave out to just anyone, but for some reason, she felt like Vlarindara wouldn't harm anyone with it, an opinion perhaps tinged by the sympathy she felt at her plight.