A dream. Despite her clinging to survival, it was merely a replay of her early adulthood, when she scrambled to survive. With scents as foreign as these, and the mere consideration that she had just woken up here was far too farfetched to entertain. It was all just a long, seemingly endless dream. A dream induced by mind-altering mushrooms, perhaps. Even if there was no recollection of consuming such a thing before she fell asleep beside Rowen. The cold liquid that flooded into her stomach, colliding with the heat of her bowels... despite how real it all felt, it was simply a very vivid, lucid dream. Soon enough, Takala told herself, she would wake up.

Yet, another accompanied her on her sleep-journey.

'Excuse me, miss?'

Her ears pivoted to the source of voice before her cool gaze followed. Another wolf? And an unfamiliar one, at that. Odd. Never had she dreamt of a stranger. She blinked dumbly.

'My name is Rouche, may I come closer and speak with you?'

"I don't know you," Her voice was level, calm, and curious. After all, this wolf was merely a figment of her imagination. Perhaps the dream-wolf would explain where she had known him from if she simply iterated her internal dialogue.

As she awaited his response, her gaze flickered over his visage. He was tall, about as tall as... Oh! Of course! He was a Northerner like her! Not a Southerner like Rowen. He was too tall, too gray. Was he from Boone's pack, and she had just forgotten they met?

"Where have we met before?"

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note: I am retroactively revising my previous post that she is in denial, and believes this is all a dream.