poor unfortunate child

Thistle's healing had done miracles - even though the wound on her flank hadn't healed completely, it didn't hurt that much as before. And once the pain was merey felt, Pump was up and going. Almost a week had passed, since the rock-slide and two things were obvious - Akhlut was not going to return and a major part of their former territory was inhabitable, because it was coverd in rocks, snow and debris. It meant that they needed to expand the existing borders and that was her first order as the new leader of the Horizon Ridge wolves - to explore the territories beyond borders and claim those that were worth taking. Good land was one of the keys to a strong and thriving pack.

She had covered the territory near the seaside, which was very good for an occasional scavenging, when she heard a summoning call of a foreign origin. This made her a bit wary, because she was not ready to get in a direct confrontation. It would be a lot safer, if there was another packmate around and she thought of the intimidating Bjorn, who had made an interesting offer not too long ago. But he was not around now, therefore hoping that in case of danger her pace would be quick enough to outrun it, she strided to the location, where the sound had come from.

Pump's gaze met a very young and worried wolf - he reeked anxiety from distance. His fear made her confident, her pace slowed, she carried herself in a more dominant manner and her eyes were fixed on the yearling. "State your business here or get lost," she barked at him in a not too friendly manner and stopped not too far from him. She wasn't hostile, just protective of her land.