Herbalists' Cache duskwood

He was restless in the night, too hungry to sleep, too nervous about the pups to relax. The coywolfdog exited his den to pale moonlight rather than early sunshine, determined to do something with his pent up energy. He slid down the slopes of Drageda to the borders, knowing that prey was more likely to be found in unmarked lands than the heart of a pack's territory. Food was coming back now, but it would be a while before the pack was as strong as before.

But he didn't see why he couldn't take advantage of the new bounties found in the unclaimed lands when other wolves were sleeping. The hybrid crossed through the empty space between the Moraine and the Maplewood, his nose pressed against the ground in search of some trail. His random wandering brought him to the Herbalists' Cache, a place somewhat familiar to him, though not a place of interest. He was no herbalist, only a scout and warrior. The pack, most likely, knew of this place, as evidenced by the familiar coywolf's presence.

Hush chuffed to greet the fellow half-breed, wondering what he too was doing in the woods this late at night.