By now, Ceartas had been in this land for a few weeks. She had scoured most of the land, aided by the portals scattered throughout and her own growing magic, which made traversal easier. Even as a believer in doing everything the 'normal' way, she had to admit that such commodities were extremely useful.
In fact, she used them now. Her new ability to shapeshift allowed her to transform into a snow leopard. By all accounts, she looked rather normal and unoriginal, but she knew through practice that if she tried, she could look rather fantastical. The wolf turned leopard explored her surroundings with casual intrigue, noting down especially the plants both familiar and unfamiliar to her, and memorizing their location for later gathering. She wore on her left shoulder a hand-crafted satchel, a crude thing made of dried leather and hardy fiber as straps. It was far from the polished, designer satchels she had seen some others use - this one was made entirely by her with her own wolf paws. Something she was proud of. It did its job, even if its lifespan isn't very long.
A scream pierces her thoughts, and instantly the woman is on the move towards the direction of the call. Healer instincts compelled her to follow, to see who was in need of aid either for combat or for nursing. Before she arrives, Ceartas transforms back into her normal wolf form. She stops on a low slope, narrowed eyes watching the flock of ravens make their ascension away from a rather sickly looking coyote. Keen eyes immediately note the rotting flesh covering parts of her body, infection clear in her smell.
Provide aid first, ask questions later, “I am a nurse,” she says, German accents lightly accentuating her words. Slowly, Ceartas approaches them, now on high alert in case the coyote attacked or those ravens decided to come back. Or something worse, “I can help,” she would continue to approach, if the coyote's reaction is favorable.