It's evening in the Miramichi Valley, and it's rather pleasant outside. Your character can see a wild horse in the distance.
Generosity couldn't help but notice they were running into a lot of canines in this land. While they hadn't been traveling especially far, it was the longest trek she ever experienced in her life. She wondered quietly to herself if they would ever stop walking or if this was their life now. She was too scared to ask her mother, or else she risked her ire; she knew she had a short patience. The white wolf had been less irritable as of late and the daughter did not want to disturb her from her thoughts.
The land had grown thick with trees as they walked eastward. They avoided the packs to Generosity's dismay. But she kept her disappointment to herself. As the sun began to set beyond the skyline they stopped and began the ritual of settling down for the night. Generosity went to go looking for sticks before her mother could tell her to do so. She was used to the routine now and hoped something as little as this would make her mother happy.
Luckily, it wasn't difficult to find sticks in the forest. Finding dry sticks was a bit hard though. The fire wasn't something entirely necessary for the wolves but the mother explained that it was to keep the bugs away. They couldn't risk the cow becoming diseased or infested. Gen could understand, if from a more empathetic standpoint rather than an economic one. She'd hate to see Milkie get sick.
She had a modest bundle of wood cradled in her arms. The sticks were jumbled and it was getting difficult to keep a hold of them as she bent over to inspect whether to add to her pile. It was then that she smelled something familiar that made her freeze for a moment. She couldn't really explain why she froze in that moment. Was it something bad? Should she run?
But when she recognized the scent and realized why she had such a reaction, it crept forward from a copse of trees. "Horse..." she murmured to herself and her tail wagged behind her. It was a beautiful thing, adorning a white coat that caught the sunlight and gave off a faint shimmer.
One of the wolves back home had a horse. Sometimes they had let Generosity brush its mane. They told her horses were easily spooked, even by someone as small as her. So she stood completely still aside from her wagging tail and watched as the beast walked through the forest. She wished her mother was there to see it.