Porcupine Ridge I found myself in the fire burned hills

The creatures milled about, but didn't seem to have any real purpose in mind. Had he the mind for it, he may have wondered what it was like to be such a stupid creature, but then, perhaps they too thought wolves were stupid creatures. Nevertheless, he didn't have the mind for it, so his wordless observation was nothing but that: mere observation. His thoughts were on his surroundings, on his well-being, so when Jhala approached with a bark, he was already aware of her coming.

Had this been a legitimate hunt, her noise would have been unwelcome, but as he was merely observing, Farstep didn't mind. The wooly creatures across the gap lifted their heads to observe the pair of wolves, but if they were uneasy, there was no indication. The tawny male dragged his gaze away and locked it on Jhala instead. They'd had only a brief encounter before, but Farstep was glad to know Capriccio hadn't sent the black-and-grey woman away.

This one was mature, he noted from scent, and immediately it put her in his good graces. So far, the females he'd met in the pack were all immature, not yet having experienced their seasons. He'd assumed perhaps that Capriccio, who was mature herself, sought to quell competition by taking in only yearling bitches, but the unfortunate side effect was that the pack's Beta female was also a yearling, someone Farstep ordinarily would not have submitted to. Jhala smelled of a woman, not a girl. He paid it almost no mind beyond noting it and feeling hopeful that she would unseat Kesan, for she wasn't in season, and that was the only time Farstep had more than a passing interest in the sex of another wolf outside of hierarchical reasons.

He chuffed a light note of welcome, but apart from a stately arrangement of head and shoulders to suggest some measure of authority, he didn't move from his spot.