Sawtooth Spire I am the Batman

The lead bitch nipped fondly at his whiskers, catching not a one, as they continued on their way. Despite their short time on their new mountain, they had memorized these paths well and good. The borders were manned as they moved to a place some would think beyond their reach. Perhaps it was true, but if a wayward wolf was ever caught or noted, they would be dealt with and meet more than the bite of their teeth. Could their end be untimely? Not in the eyes of Tonravik. 

The lead pair continued their prowling. She was content in this activity, and eager to move with him to give chase to any who would test them. Of course, this chase would be a different sort, given the land left surrounding the Spire was as cruel as they were to those who lingered here. Her eyes traced the endless field of sharp stone. The space between rock and rock was a snare. It was a safe haven for mice and moles; here, they would be unmolested by any, save for snakes.