Blackfeather Woods Red Dye

Sorry, i'll reply to the other one asap!

As she walked through the woods, she couldn't help but to raise her head just a little higher. She was proud, the mark on her shoulder gave her a new sense of authority even if it was just a pawprint. The meaning behind it was valued much more, and she remembered it as her stride turned into a strut, to wherever her nose took her. It may have been foolish, but she was allowed to feel proud once in awhile. The recent ranks change had heightened that feeling, yet she couldn't help feel wary of the contender. Damien had proved to be a warrior and she had a feeling that he wouldn't give up his rank so easily. No doubt he would inherit the pack when Burke retired but as of then, she had no interest in becoming a place that wasn't her's to have. The matter of a Beta was something she didn't think much about. The opportunity was great, yet she was happy where she was unless Burke asked otherwise. She only hoped Damien didn't see her as a threat to his linage, yet, something told her trouble would arise in the future. 

As far as she knew, the tunnels had been submerged in water during the storm. The last time she had been down there, most of it was too wet to venture further. But she was curious, the last exploration had been more than a month ago. Deciding for it, she ventured into the Web, seeking out the places she had left off. The hollow and echoing tunnels had healed, the water disappearing back into the ground once more. some areas were still moist, but nothing too muddy to handle. Though a different scent filled her nostrils as she neared the Keep. It was all too familiar, as she rushed to the chamber. Without focusing her eyes, Kendra's form was splayed with red marks that resembled fatal wounds. A wave of panic emerged,  "Kendra!" She shouted before releasing the girl had gotten into the familiar red dye that had painted the mark on her shoulder. "What have you done?" She panted, looking around the room to see various red markings on the floor and surrounding area. As far a she knew, the paste was rare and not to be extensively used. 

Yet, she wouldn't get mad at her girl for being a child and doing what pups do. "This is special paint, Kendra. Not for playing with," She informed the child, trying to use words that she would understand. If she could just get her away from the dye, and to the nearest stream, she could try and wash it off of yet the paint was made for withstanding rubbing off, almost permanent. Maybe Cicero would know, she decided. If only for once the feisty pup would listen to her and be cooperative.