Stone Circle This is the cool patrol dance

Burr had no real interest in being a pack guardian, but he was an attentive pupil as his father launched into a verbal lesson on patrolling. He kept his ears tightly turned toward Mawk at all times, regardless of the swivel of his head as he examined the buffer zone they presently walked through and bobbed his head accordingly to show he understood. Patrolling was a lot more work than just walking near the borders. Burr's instincts bid him mark the trees and ground where the scent of his pack was strongest, but instinct relative to hierarchy also held him back. Without ever being told, Burr knew it was the right of the highest ranked wolves to mark the most.

"Can't someone cross the borders when there's no one patrolling?" Burr asked with a slight furrow in his brow. The wolves of Easthollow were very diligent, he had no doubt about that, but they couldn't possibly watch every inch of the borders every moment of every day, could they? What was to stop a bad guy from stealing into their midst unnoticed and getting out again before the pack could do anything about it? Lack of interest or no, Burr's curiosity about the little details was mounting by the moment.

"Ummm," he hummed as he considered his father's question. His ears fell back along the sloped lines of his head when he finally said, "I dunno." He had heard of all the possible dangerous animals out there from Illecebra and to stay away from them, but when Burr thought of a bad guy, he thought of a wily wolf. A dastardly devil. He didn't think about bears, cougars, foxes and coyotes.