Blacktail Deer Plateau colder than the hinges of hell

Anything, but Queenie knew that wouldn't get her anywhere. On one hand, she liked the idea of being a defender of her family, fighting to keep them safe, but these wolves weren't her family. Maybe if she had been back at home with Daddy Bruce and the boys then she would have considered it (Lord knows what Daddy would've thought about the idea), but she wasn't at home and her kin was nowhere near. She thought for a moment about pursuing something less hands-on, like counseling, but then she remembered how boring it was to listen to folks complain about things she couldn't care less to hear.

Queenie sighed and bit the inside of her cheek. Maybe a scout. She wouldn't be stuck as a homebody, but she also wouldn't have to get any blood on her pelt. It probably wasn't the answer that the other was looking for, but at this point, Queenie was ready to move on. The brat inside of her was beginning to bubble and pop, warning her to keep going before it exploded.