She inhaled as deeply as she could, ignoring the sting in her nostrils as she tried to fill the capacity of her lungs. Regularly a power house, packed of muscle behind deceptive feminine charm, she was losing to lone wolf fatigue. Feeling the stress of travel not as a familiar burn but as an agony in her joints caused her blood to boil. This grand adventure she had been having was quickly going south and taking her with it. Valora needed a home – temporary or not – and something told her she would not find it here. It was deathly silent, broken only on occasion by a winter wind, and so quiet it seemed unfriendly to an obvious traveler like herself. With a coat as red as her own, she could not fit in to the esoteric surroundings. She was reluctant to head further into the depths, maintaining a steady pace about the perimeter where the trees were sparser and did not loom ominously overhead.
Her heart dropped at the first hint of a scent among the snow, thinking that her mind was playing tricks on her. Upon further inspection the red-caped female came to accept two things slowly. One, that scent was real. It would seem there was a pack here on the outskirts of the creepy forest, but that was their prerogative. Two, perhaps her death was not so imminent after all. That was, if she could convince someone in charge that she was worth her keep. A crooked smile tugged on the corners of her lips, accepting the challenge. Her steps began to slow, large paws eventually planting in the snow-coated forest floor. She would approach no further, having a deep respect for boundaries that were not her own to push. Tilting her muzzle to the grey sky, she parted her jaws and beckoned someone with authority to come: she had a question to ask.