Calanthe was beyond impatient - it was well beyond time to get off her rump and do something. It had been two weeks since she had joined the Round Stone Crest pack, and she wasn't nearly so skinny or frail as she had been on arriving. She was strong enough that exploring her new territory no longer make her legs ache or her stomach feel cold and hollow. She was recovered enough that her nightmares were not quite the nightly occurrences they had been, and even though they were still frequent, they didn't keep her afraid and wide awake for hours on end anymore.
She needed to start paying back the massive debt she owed to these wolves. She couldn't do that if she was forever waiting around for her fur to completely grow back in, or for her sides to fill out as much as everyone else's sides were. That was going to take too long, and the longer she waited, the lazier she would get even despite the constant wandering she did through Stonewatch Timbers. She'd already been told she would eventually need to undergo some defensive training - it was a routine, it seemed, for members of this pack, and one she didn't object to at all.
She stopped pacing, standing near the edge of the little clearing she had come across. It looked big enough for whatever the training might be - certainly large enough to facilitate a pair of wolves scuffling, if that's what would happen. The ground looked to be relatively level, too, which hopefully meant nobody would be spraining or - luck forbid - breaking anything. She should probably see if Gent was nearby and give him a call...
She hesitated for a moment, then raised her head and let out a long call; this one was not distressed or grieving or confused as it had been when she had called for her family. This one was simply tentative, seeking the king's attention in the hopes that the attention could - and would - be spared for her, though perhaps some sadness lingered in her tone for the ones who should have been around to train her.