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In her mind, it made more sense for him to be here than her, too. From what she understood, Skoll had roots here. Perhaps those roots were not the critical tap root that anchored him most firmly, but there was definitely a connection. He had lived here before, he had fought for territories within the region, and he had spilled blood. Vaguely, she wondered exactly how much significance this place held for the tattered warrior. As his scent continued to flood her senses, she looked about casually. Now when she spotted him, he was treated to a rare sight indeed: her eyes lit up just slightly, and her tail swayed behind her. Matrix liked to think she didn't need a familiar face, but it was almost painfully senseless to deny her social instincts. Hell if anybody else had to know about that, though.
"Skoll," she said, her deep voice laced with a degree of warmth most would never witness. At the "little one" comment she offered a sceptical look, and decided to interpret it literally for the sake of moving on. Her mixed blood placed her size far above that of the average 'yote, perhaps even in the small to midsized wolf range... but she was definitely still smaller than him, and far less built.
"I'm here; I'm alive," she stated vaguely, truly not having much more to say about the matter.
"How about yourself?" So far, nothing had happened to really make her experience in the land of Bleeding Souls particularly excellent or unbearable--although, the seeds were just a little ray of sunshine in her typically cynical outlook.
"Actually, I found some seeds. I'm going to try to grow them indoors. So far, I've found almost all of the supplies I'll need." With this, she motioned toward the wheel barrow.
"I still need a heating system, I guess." She peered at him now somewhat curiously; did he have any ideas? She realised had no idea what areas of expertise the bronze wolf could claim, other than kicking ass and taking names.
