Sawtooth Spire un beso

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Her circles wound inwards, retreating to the true borders of the Spire. True to form, Nanuk drove everyone she could away from the area surrounding their pack borders to warn them away from ever disrupting the pack on their own turf. After the repeated offenses from the Plains wolves, the Tartok wolves had little patience for any around their borders without intent to join and had no problems showing that.

By now however, it was time for her to venture closer to her home and patrol there a time or two before heading off to maybe check out the hot springs again before heading back to the new, bigger family den. With a shake of her pelt, Nanuk began to pick her way over the perilous path that ringed the mountain, the only way that any could even enter the Spires. Her nose worked at the wind, searching for scents that did not belong, though she was unsurprised to find one that did.

Her pace no faster or slower, the pale beast sought her new target. A face quickly becoming more and more familiar around Sawtooth, obviously integrating well with those that already lived here. A short howl called to him, his form easily picked out against the grey and green of the landform.