Kenelm gave himself a hard shake as he continued south. No scent trail led him on, now, nor any paw prints or bits of lost fur. He didn't expect any, not right away at least. If her trail had vanished at the fjord, it didn't make a lick of sense for it to suddenly, magically reappear just because he might have picked the right direction - and he was relatively certain he had. Calanthe wouldn't have gone towards those highly flammable pines to the west, not so soon after the fire. He knew his sister. He knew she would shy away from anything that reminded her too much of their home.

The wood he was in now felt cooler, calmer by comparison. The birdsong here seemed muted by the foliage, though it was still lovely to listen to so early in the morning. Again he began to hear the sound of water, and although his raw throat would be grateful for the relief of another chance to drink fresh water, Kenelm felt his muzzle twist for a moment in disdain. This was why he had lost his sister's scent: There was too much water around here. How did anyone find anything in this place when they couldn't walk for more than a day before finding yet another stream or fall or pond or lake?

The sound of a growl made him freeze in his tracks, though it sounded as though the source lay before him. The barely present breeze filtering through the trees blew against his side, clearly not in the appropriate direction to carry the scent of whoever had announced themselves - hopefully this meant the reverse was true, as well.

A pair of foxes slunk away from the sound, bodies low in agitation. Kenelm braced himself to fend them off, but fortunately they ignored him and continued on until they were out of sight. Good; he would have hated to scrap with those two weasel-dogs with another wolf nearby as well. Kenelm gave himself a shake, then carefully continued onward, towards the sound of water and the source of the growl.

A woman stood in the water, her fur black with whitish peppering along her underbelly, legs, and face. She didn't seem terribly hostile, at least not towards Kenelm, for the moment. Her growl must have been to chase away those foxes; he could hardly hold that against her.

“Good morning,” he called, keeping his voice cheerful as he moved a little closer. His tail and head he kept at a neutral level, although he allowed his tail to wag just a bit to further display to the woman that he wasn't a threat. After facing down a pair of foxes, he wouldn't be surprised if she was a little frayed.

Kenelm grinned and dipped his head with a quiet chuckle at the woman's commentary. “I've always been a bit of an early riser,” he admitted easily. “I suppose old habits are rather hard to break.” He sat down, figuring he was quite close enough for the moment, and nodded at the woman's next question. “The fact that they were running away from the water did strike me as a bit odd,” he admitted amiably. “I'm just glad you scared them off before they decided to scrap with you over the water.”

The woman seemed visibly chilled as she stood up out of the water. Ah; the spring must be warmer than the morning air surrounding them. Kenelm hadn't noticed the change in temperatures much as he had travelled; all he knew was that everything was cooler and more humid than it had been the day the fire came, and that was good enough for him. If it flooded any time soon, he would tread the waters and be grateful that they made everything so much less flammable.

He dipped his head again, this time as a show of courtesy as he said, “I should introduce myself. My name is Kenelm; I'm travelling through here from lands farther to the east.” That was enough information to start with, for the moment; he could ask her for any information she might have once he knew whether or not she could be trusted with the reason behind his travels. Instead his most diplomatic smile came back into play as he asked, “May I ask for your name?”

“Pharika.” It was an odd name, but not as odd as, say, Naberius. By comparison, Pharika was a name that might well have been encountered in Spirit's Gambol, had enough time passed. Kenelm hid those thoughts behind his smile as he started to answer her next question: “Not a pack, no. I'm actually--”

He caught the scent nearly at the same time as Pharika did, and his head swivelled in its direction, mirroring his current companion's reaction. That was a deer carcass - the scent of blood laced the heavier smells of its hide - but the other scent that travelled with it gave him pause. That was a feline scent, but it wasn't like the mountain lions he had encountered in his travels so far. This one was different enough that it threw him off and made him wary of approaching the kill site - though Pharika didn't quite seem to share his reservations.

“I smell deer meat and some sort of cat,” he answered, taking a step towards the scent. “It's not a cat I've encountered before, though - which is arguably a good thing, because the only ones I've ever had the displeasure of coming across were mountain lions. Nasty brutes.” He shook his head, then turned to Pharika again and said, “What do you think? Should we go see if there's an easy meal to be had?” There were, after all, two of them - and Kenelm wasn't one to turn down the chance at free food, not unless there was a very good reason to move along.

A lynx. Kenelm had heard of those once or twice - mainly because his ear tufts had been compared to those possessed by the cats. It would be interesting to see whether or not there was any exaggeration in such a comparison, although he was still somewhat reserved about actually tangling with one. But there went Pharika, padding off towards the smell of deer without a second thought about whether or not they could take the cat in competition for its food.

Watching her as they moved along, Kenelm couldn't help but wonder if perhaps Pharika wanted a tangle with the lynx; her body language was cautious, but didn't speak of any fear or reservation on her part. She nearly seemed on the verge of skipping as they wound their way towards the kill site.

Kenelm was happy to duck low into the taller grasses here, his muted coat making him a harder target to spot through them as he moved. He halted when Pharika did, bringing himself up beside her close enough to catch her hushed strategy. It wasn't a safe plan, he didn't think - having both wolves attack from either side, or one from behind and the other from its side, seemed the safer option in his mind - but he was willing to give her method a shot in light of the fact that she had the better idea of what they were about to tangle with. At least she was prepared to back off if things turned sour for them.

She was ready to go; Kenelm supposed it was now or never. With a nod to his companion, he started carefully forward, already manoeuvring around so that he wouldn't have to tear off towards the creature's side after it had already seen them. His steps were quiet through the grass, his movements careful and fluid so that he made as little of a disturbance as possible. Now was not the time to galumph carelessly about. The lynx came into view moments later, for the moment unaware of their presence. Fortunately this one appeared to be alone; Kenelm could neither smell nor see any cubs in the area. It was only the lynx and its deer - soon to be their deer.

Kenelm slithered through the grass, his eyes never leaving the lynx as he positioned himself at its side and waited for Pharika to make her move. He could feel the adrenalin prick at the back of his tongue - could feel his muscles coiling down and heating up in anticipation. They would have one shot at this; he only hoped they didn't come away having lost more than they gained in the attempt.