Sawtooth Spire Lasiurus

Tonravik was smug when he sped off, and continued her cool, calm, and collected strut, the perfect juxtaposition to his eager display. There was happiness to be felt, moreso in the find than her being correct in this. Tonravik was fortunate this was up; she had been gone for longer than she desired to be from her children, and at least she had no more climbing to do. Tonravik nipped Kapvik roughly as he jostled her, the action one of fondness from her. 

The hardy creatures ahead were magnificent. Her undeniable favorite. Were the plains wolves to ask her of the creatures now, she would kill them in knowing their intent to herd them. This land, this prey, it was theirs. As it was there were no more plains wolves to think of... and those that had joined them of that place had their new beginnings beside her mate and herself. They were a formidable pair within the Valley, and had proven themselves a multitude a time. Of course, all of her wolves were formidable. There was not a one in her ranks without the stuff required to become Tartok... and now was as good a time as any to grow strong and become. 

"How goes your training," she hummed then, content to break the silence. The alpha female was content to recline onto her haunches and simply observe the prey before her for a time. Tonravik wanted warriors and wardens of her wolves—it was this she referred to.