Ouroboros Spine Wake Me When The Light Is Gone

A howl of an unfamiliar pitch assailed the leaders ears. Tonravik, as ever, wasted no time in heading toward the sound. She did not howl in response. She was close enough where it was not needed, and descended the ridge haphazardly, rubble clacking its way down as she half-slid, half bounded the rigid, rocky terrain. Tonravik had little time to waste on wolves that lurked near her border, and she could not imagine why any would come to the Spine unless they sought to join them.

The other before her had a stature of a runner. It was easy enough to assess that the wolf before her was likely a better runner than a fighter, and her furs reminded Tonravik of plains wolf. Tartok had once overtook plains, interested in the bison that lurked there. They were hardy prey, and their meat delectable. But her thoughts lingered solely on the wolf at her borders, then, tail above hindquarters and ears erect as she approached.