Haunted Wood I'll make sure they're really fucking sorry

A voice rose in the silence, making her once flat ears shoot up. Blue orbs darted around and locked on the pale pelt of Iris. Immediately she straightened up, not wanting to set off a bad tone.

 "Not-" Lusa stopped. Her voice sounded small and weak. From the weeping, she assumed. "No. Not really," She said, raising her voice a little. "Chevalier. He is... dead. I followed his scent to the Lionhead Mesa and found his dried blood. I think one of the Redhawk wolves got him, but we can't be sure." Damn that pack. They were pushing their luck at this point. Those wolves seemed to grow too cocky just because they've been here longer. 

 Thinking of that Peregrine killing her sweet child infuriated her. "Next time they want to step foot here, it's their funeral. They won't get away with this."