Dragoncrest Cliffs there are echoes of thundering hooves

His paws were determined to step on every inch of the ground of their new territory. He had gotten so used to the Dragon's slopes, but now he felt awkward. The land here was remarkably different. Salt filled everything here. From the ground to the air, trapping inside his fur. It was disgusting. How did wolves even live near the ocean? He would make a point to stay as far away from the cliffs as he possibly could, though he doubted it would help much.

But the pack had established its new borders, and Hush had to throw his scent onto the invisible wall. He did his usual dance of leg raising and scratching and rolling, rubbing his scent at varying intervals where he smelled the others'. He was not alone. A female was walking along the borders just as he did, though she did not rub her scent. Instead she spoke softly to herself as she patrolled. Hush cocked his head, trotting over to her and chuffing softly. What on earth was she doing?