You approach Ursa. She's even bigger up close. Yellow eyes stare you down as you draw nearer, watchful but not yet aggressive. "Are you lost, wolf?" she rumbles.
Here in the mountains, the wind can strip away almost any scent, but the smell of dense forest is set in her fur like it's a part of her. You realize her footing on the rock is unsure - not so much sitting on it as she is clinging to it, like the exposed roots of those desperate, skinny pines. Perhaps she's not from around here?
Regardless, you figure it's best not to get on her bad side. One swipe of those massive paws could crush a rabbit into pulp; you'd rather not find out what it could do to your head.
> Turn back.
> Keep exploring the territory.
