Ouroboros Spine CONQUER

Tonravik lacked discretion as she lumbered upward. Still, nothing. Even when scree loudly ricocheted as it scrabbled ever-down, nothing. Kroc verbally echoed her sentiment, but Tonravik growled quietly. The territory was good for ambushing, if the wolves utilized it. They could come from the woodwork. A sharp look was given to Kroc; they had no idea what they were up against. Upward and upward they moved, but Tonravik did not allow herself to feel cocky. What were they up against? 

The leader of the trio still did not pause. "Fan out," she rumbled in their language, Inuktitut. "The wind is in our favor." From here, she could smell no wolves nearby. Her erect lobes were perked. It was late, the witching hour... but patrols ought to never end. Tonravik would teach these wolves. It was relatively clear they had been alone for some time that there was no order. The pack, more likely than not, was just here due to the shelter the land offered. She waited where she was, head low to the earth as she listened, waited... Her subordinates would return to her, she knew they would not go too far.