Moonstone Quarry Strength of Knowledge

@Fox I thought the quarry would be an interesting enough setting :D

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The newly-formed Court was slowly building strength, despite the famine. Subjects like Darsal, an ashen-black wolf with nothing but her life to lose, had spent every waking moment scouring both Tuktu and the western lands of the Great Bear Wilderness. Their efforts to hunt were noble, but they did not come without trials of strife and injury. They'd made progress, but Darsal still let no day pass by without traveling many miles, whether alone or with a packmate.
Her conscience kept reminding her of her pledge to the Court's King and Queen. Let it not be forgotten, she thought.
Darsal had passed by the Moonstone Quarry a couple of times before; she'd noticed it weeks before whilst stalking through the Weald to the northwest. Tonight, she had again come across the sandy gorge, this time taking it for a safe place to rest while the sun took his leave. The wolf made her way toward one of the stone masses inside the Quarry, her muscles sore from a restless day of chasing squirrels. She would be glad to rest.

It had been quite some time since Fox had ventured this far away from Redhawk Caldera. She was not a traveler or explorer by any means—at least not since she'd come to the Teekon Wilds. True, her first month or two here had been filled with traveling to packs and pissing on their land... but that life felt so distant she could scarcely remember it. Not that she was known for her excellent memory or anything.

She hadn't meant to wander so far, but by the time the sun was making its decent, she decided she would return tomorrow. The kids were old enough that they no longer needed her for sustenance, and despite the death of Peter, she trusted the rest of the pack to look after the brood she shared with Peregrine. Perhaps she would run into somebody decent out this way who was seeking a pack. Then again, she wasn't exactly the best recruiter.

Having made her way down the steep, jagged rocks, Fox soon found herself welcoming the night. A quick cursory sniff alerted her to the presence of somebody else, and—not wanting to be snuck up on—Fox sought it out without hesitation. Stars had started twinkling overhead when she found the other, and Fox chuffed when she was a hundred or so yards away, alerting the stranger to her presence.

I'm sorry if I made it too far away with the Quarry. It was the bisecting point between the Golden Glade and the Redhawks' territory, without crossing a huge range of mountains....

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Darsal sought out a ridge of stone in the sandy Quarry. This would provide enough cover for her to rest. The sand would be comfortable enough.
The night was cool, something a tundra wolf like Darsal appreciated; her pelt had thinned for the warmer seasons, but the Wilds would never be as habitable to this wolf as her home was. Boli, a tundra far, far north of Snowforest Taiga, was where she'd been born. Her pack was a family of wolves just as tall and sturdy as Darsal. They had specialized in collaborating to take down even the mightiest elk, an animal no lone wolf could hope to hunt. Yet, they also had a stigma against communication and empathy, which was where Darsal took her reserved persona... and her passion for language.
Darsal had nearly found sleep when she heard a noise from the entrance to the Quarry. She rose, burnt-orange eyes now open. She strained her ears for any further sounds — and there was the brush of slight pawsteps on sand. Who was roaming the gorge at this time of day?
The blackened-gray wolf could only smell one stranger and thus had little worry. Darsal spoke with a strong voice, betraying no nervousness she harbored. Who's there? she asked, her voice a slight echo. Show yourself.

"Who's there?" asked a voice, followed by a rather demanding, "Show yourself." Fox narrowed her eyes in the direction of the voice, scoffed, and responded with a very curt, "Fuck off, asshole." With that, she stomped off toward Redhawk Caldera.