Oula's breath hissed through clenched teeth as she trudged along. Now that the heady rush of battle had worn off, everything fucking hurt. The back of her neck, once a luxuriously thick mane of silver fur, was now clumped and matted, crossed with torn skin and crusted blood. Her back thigh, the very one that had been plagued and subsequently rid of mange months prior, sported an unappealing gash that slowly seeped. She supposed she was fortunate enough that the deranged woman had attacked her not far from home, as the prospect of sleeping out in the middle of nowhere stinking of fresh blood did not appeal to her.

The sun had begun to sink towards the horizon just as Oula crossed the intangible line of scent that separated Grizzly Hollow from the rest of the world, the stars just beginning to prick their way through the navy blanket of the sky. For the first time that day Oula's tired tread finally stopped, the cream and grey lady coming to a stand and letting her head droop tiredly. Her pink tongue flapped at the air as she caught her breath, and once her lungs were satiated with enough she tipped her head back. She coaxed a reedy, breathless howl from her ribcage, letting the pack know she had returned for the evening.

The crunch of snow in her direction caused Oula to try to cast off as much as the tired slant in her spine as she could, tucking her flapping tongue back between clenched teeth. Her leader's arrival with a growl was much more the type of greeting Oula was accustomed to, Oula lowering her neck towards the russet and ash female. Wacipi's question was met with a throaty rumble as she recalled the insolent female she'd run into earlier that day. "I came across a wolf while hunting in the marsh.  I said nothing to her, but she knew what pack I was in, or at least guessed correctly. She seemed to think she owned the place." Oula said with a snuff and her proud nose upturned, holding clear disdain to the she-wolf that had bested her.

"She never gave her name, though she was screaming something about the Willows when I got away." Oula said looking to Wacipi, not knowing if those words meant anything in particular or if it was just the gibberish of a madwoman.

"I don't think she'll be getting much use out of her paw with how I left it, though." Oula said with a satisfied smile, straightening up before wincing as the damaged skin of her nape tugged with the movement. As much as she tried to brush it off she really didn't come out any better from that encounter.

Oula shifted slightly, giving her bloodied shoulder an inconspicuous sniff and feeling slightly appalled that the woman's odor still clung to her fur, but none-the-less trying to commit the remnants of the scent to memory. If she ever ran into one of the Willow wolves again, she would at least know who they were. It had unnerved Oula that the female had known what pack she owed her alliance to without knowing hers. If Grizzly Hollow was not such the little, unknown pack she had first thought it to be, she would be on better footing to know who her potential enemies were.

Oula trotted along in her leader's wake, listening closely as Wacipi imparted what little she knew of the pack's relations. Her short tail swished in a flush of excited agitation. Part of her didn't want trouble, but if any of them tried to make a move on Grizzly Hollow again she would happily crush a few more paws. A low growl rumbled in Oula's throat, "I'll be sure to keep an eye out for them, then."

As they came to a stop Oula considered Wacipi's offer to call for the healer. She hesitated, a little bit proud-blooded and wanting to say she could just sleep it off and not invite undue fuss over what was just a flesh wound. But who knew how filthy that Willow cur's mouth was, she would be really sorry if her wounds got infected and she was holed up in the den over it. "Perhaps that would be best," She sighed.

Oula waited patiently as Wacipi sent up a call for the resident healer, sitting down in the snow alongside the russet woman. The relief that flooded her tired, aching limbs as she sat was palpable. Since noon she had been constantly on the move, and only now had she finally gotten the chance to rest. She wondered if perhaps it wasn't the best idea to have sat down, it would make it much more difficult to rise again. She was cold, and tired, and hungry, but despite heavy eyelids and aching muscles she kept her posture alert and so rigid she might as well have been a sculpture. In some time Veho finally arrived, questions spilling from his lips.

"I was out hunting in the south, and some wolf of the willows had decided she owned the marsh. I believe the woman was unhinged, and when I stood my ground she attacked me." Oula reported, lips wrinkled in distaste for the brutish she-wolf. As Veho fluttered around her in his inspection, her eyes followed him but the rest of her remained still.

"She just gave me a few scratches, is all," She said, minimizing the damage. She'd certainly seen worse, in any case.