Citlali could smell her, hear her, before the stranger spoke—yet, even then, her body jolted when the soft voice was heard. 'Hello? Are you...are you alright?' The wolfdog's head canted downward. Not quite, unfortunately, she responded softly. I'm unsure of where I am. She shifted, coiling her tail slightly closer to herself.

This wolf could very much be a threat—yet, the sweet lilt of her tone said otherwise. Despite it all, Citlali offered a small smile. I am Citlali. Are you a native here? The frail-bodied canine shifted yet again, lying more erect, more alert. Are you willing to help me?

Her blush nose twitched. A lot to ask of someone, especially a stranger. To help Citlali wasn't a simple lean on the shoulder.

Yet, to ask for help was just about the only thing she could do by this point—it was that or starving to death. A sigh left her lips. It was a burden that Citi could only pray that this stranger would be able to bear.