Sawtooth Spire Lasiurus

When he spoke, Tonravik turned to regard him. Only when he finished did her dark eyes narrow, perhaps not imperceptibly toward someone who studied faces—one like himself—that might understand her annoyance in the words said. The leader had not noticed given her location the past couple of days, nor had she been told as much. More likely than not because still, so many places of their new home had yet to be explored. There was wildlife to be found, big game and small game... but none had been given the right opportunity to look. Given the circumstance of days past, her mate had kept to the whelping den even moreso... but, she knew he scouted still when he could. 

She knew what he was saying, and Tonravik would, typically, be inclined to agree with him. The place was too new to be deemed empty so soon... and with all the waterways, Tonravik did not doubt that sooner or later, they would find their elusive prey. Her ears pricked atop her head. "I think there is much undiscovered here," came her response. With all those waterways, and the sheer mass of this place, they would be difficult to find in the beginnings of their reign here... but they would be found. 

In fact, why should they not search now? 

Tonravik had hoped to laze and enjoy the peace of an empty mind, but now it danced with images of skeletal wolves. That could not be had. She was the sole Gamekeeper here, and with her nose, she would find something. Grunting, she rose to all fours and turned from the ridge, moving in the opposite direction. The pack had plenty on their minds... but she would put this fear to bed.