and strike the nail against the flint

With their friendly spar complete, the two of them took off towards the borders. It was a familiar path, one in which they wove through their inner territory towards the all too familiar outskirts. He patrolled these parts frequently. More so now that they'd dropped a near-dead wolf on the Plain's wolves doorway. He wasn't taking any more chances with them and so he'd made his patrol more frequent and thickened his own threat upon the earth. If anyone dared the Spine, he would meet them in true savage fashion.

For today, he had a specific goal in mind. They'd only recently felled a moose in the nearby forest and had dragged its carcass back to share with the rest of their numbers. It had left a trail behind. That scent of death? He was determined not to let it attract any unwanted predation. He nudged her shoulder lightly before tipping his head in another direction as if to say "this way." His paws turned then, leading them towards where they'd brought in their kill. He scented the air and earth, thickening his marks where they had thinned as they approached his intended destination.