Swiftcurrent Creek On melancholy hill

A mischievous smile formed on his lips when he heard how she came closer, stopped and then walked up to him. Her pelt held the scent of the pack, but he wasn't familiar enough with the she-wolf's smell to identify her by her scent.

He was sitting with his back towards her when the charcoal colored wolf approached the stream. Rysk didn't turn his head until she spoke. He watched her curiously for a moment. I don't believe you can claim a part of the river he responded and then dipped one paw lazily in the water as to make a statement. He shot her a grin before he continued, Wylla, wasn't it?.