Ouroboros Spine focus, fire a gun

for @Tonravik

From the scent on the woods, to the marks on the borders nearest this heavily traveled path, Razorback knew she'd found them. The receptors in her brain screamed familiar, familiar; here is Tartok; she flicked an ear at the images it conjured. Of Siku's unwavering resolve, her mission, and the tangible feeling of purpose she gripped tightly to as she made her way up to the fringes of the border. Surely the progeny, Tonravik, would recognize her mother's scent. It served as both a marker and an armor, protecting her from what would normally be fang and claw. 

Her paws brought her to the threshold, and it is was here she stopped. Both mahogany ears twisted forward, listening to the birdsong in the woodland, and straining to pick up the sound of wolves beneath it. Her molten-orange eyes darted to and fro, but she did not fear.

She waited.