Gyrfalcon's Keep one evening as the sun went down and the jungle fires were burning

She found herself with a panging in her heart and a fear seized deep in her bones. Leaving the Family to kill the hellcat was one thing. Leaving the forest and Palisander's final resting place was another. Her heart clamored loudly in her chest as the distance grew and Isley - Hemlock, she mentally corrected herself for the millionth time that day - tried to keep a vigil from her place a few yards away. She kept her scent from the main of the pack, leaving her more open to doing the work of Arturo and Lotte freely, and she wanted to avoid the sensation that rippled through her every time she spotted Olive and the cubs. 

She felt robbed, but it wasn't the fault of anyone but herself really, if she'd gone into season earlier, if she'd been more aware of the scents around the borders, if she'd somehow done anything she might have been able to keep Palisander safe. The obsessive thoughts did little to temper the flames of the red wolf and Hemlock lashed about not unlike the cat she'd stalked. She had brought the skull with her, like some morbid marker, a promise that despite her size she was not limited to the things she could do. When they made came the Banrion called for the next batch of sentries and Hemlock rose to the occasion. 

The skull left to sit and mark the edge of what she considered safe, she began to check the outlying perimeter.