Sleepy Fox Hollow las olas de mi mar

His strides were purposeful, long and true as he prowled. His nose shifted, reaching to the skies and falling to the earth; passing back and forth between the two as if he would somehow find the answer he was looking for. The fox den. He wanted to find it. In his persistence, he stumbled across the hole. The scents were still stale. Whatever had lived here had moved out and relocated. If it was anywhere near their lands they would be found. If they'd moved further away? Their departure might have saved them.

He snorted, his nails raking over the ground as he lifted a leg and left a stream of piss to serve as a healthy reminder towards any creature who might see this empty burrow as an opportunity. He'd keep an eye on the spot in the near future, but for now he was content to turn back and patrol elsewhere. In doing so, his eyes fell upon their spider. There was something in his countenance that screamed in disappointment. The Blackfeather thing? The wolf had gone silent after that.

"A coyote killed one of our own last month," he said, turning his paws back in a slightly different route from which they'd came. "A yearling wolf new to our ranks. We were new to the Spire and they ambushed the welping den when the pups had barely opened their eyes. Our claim then was fresh and lacking. Our claim now is thick and riddled with the bones of those enemies." Coyotes. Foxes. Whatever reminder they so chose to disperse as warning to any who might come too close.

"The pack in the woods? We moved in next door to them. We are the unknown threat to them. They know nothing of us and are therefore nothing to us. Rest assured, if they grow too curious or draw too near they will become something and we will not hesitate to prove we, in turn, are something to fear." He turned his heavy gaze towards the spider. "We are no longer the strangers we once were to this mountain. It is ours. It will stay that way."