Blackfeather Woods You don't belong.

Potema felt gravity pull her down as she walked down the mountain, her stained paws quickly turning brown with dust, finally ending in the Glen. She waited patiently for Malice to follow, her eyes sweeping across the Glen as she did. Had any prey snuck in here while it was empty? Her nose took to the air to find any traces of foreign smell. She snorted, finding nothing from her vague search. She walked towards the small waterfall, remembering how her mother used to lay under the water in order to wash herself off. It felt awkward, no, wrong to give this space to the usurper, but if her children were to be born and raised in the Woods, then they would be treated like any other Blackfeather child.