Porcupine Ridge the devil and his sons

spectator mode activated!

The time was nigh. He had his minimum numbers. So with that, Taggarik took to his borders and started to lay down the first scent markers, confident that his wolves would take their turn to add their own scent, and would see to borders' defense. He knew already that Farstep and Capriccio patrolled the edge of their domain frequently, their tracks were embedded into the trail his own sizeable paws had first made. He was greatly pleased with them.

Speak of the devil, it was not long before the black wolf caught a whiff of his silent companion, and with it, the scent of someone new. He advanced on their position quickly, and though he felt the pull to assert himself, his curiosity took precedence. He slowed and stopped some distance away, his confident, neutral posture betraying nothing of his position. From here he could watch and hear, and he looked forward to seeing how his non-talking packmate would handle a stranger on their borders.

The first thing he took note of was the minimal submission the gray youth showed.