Though she longed to remain in the Arctic, her task to further explore the rest of the Realm remained ever present in her mind. The more she knew about this place, the fewer ways it could catch her off guard. She had with her a recently made satchel fitted with familiar herbal plants, cut stones and other small scavenged items. The satchel was a crude invention, made of single piece of dried leather and strong fiber that worked as the straps. Though there were plenty of unfamiliar plants in this particular land, she still recognized some and wrapped them in broad leafs for later drying and proper fitting.
She wasn't close enough to hear the talking. It was only the acute, distant sound of a yelp that made her pause. The sound of an injured lupine was all too familiar, all too easy to catch notice of amongst the backdrop of noise within the environment. More alert than usual, Ceartas makes her way carefully in the direction of the noise, until eventually the tail end of a conversation can be heard.
She hears just enough for one of the voices to ask about making splints, before the second voice offers their assistance at making one, well as being able to hunt and shift for protection. The conversation intrigued her in more ways than one. Stepping out from the undergrowth, Ceartas made her presence known if it hadn't been already. She held her stance with casual caution, head somewhat lowered and tail out for balance, but otherwise avoided any sign of displaying aggression.
“Hallo,” she begins, taking in the appearances of both creatures before her, “You are in need of assistance? I am a nurse, if you would like the help,” judging by the wolf's wet pelt,
the way she sat, and the severe lack of any recognizable herbs around, Ceartas theorized that perhaps she had arrived before any help could actually be given.
Among many other thoughts running through her head, Ceartas wondered what exactly the fox meant by shifting. Was it the same as how she could shift?