Blackfeather Woods Fog comes in on little cat feet

Macbeth, taking his new found duty to heart, could be found that day patrolling the borders. He wanted to spend some time today getting used to all the pack smells so a stranger's scent would set off his inner alarm bells. There was no point at all one day rushing towards the borders only to tell a higher ranking pack member they could not come in all because the dark male did not do his homework. He would not mind a good spar either, it had been a while since he got stuck into a good scrap.

It was moments later when excitement welled up inside him, an unfamiliar scent and not just any scent, there was a hint of coyote in this one. Picking his paws up off the ground he rushed to the source of the small, hoping it would not leave before he had chance to get there. Yet as he drew nearer he picked it up. It was faint but it was there, the small of the woods and a faint hint of Burke too so the creature must have been accepted. He snapped out of his own thoughts only to realise he was far too close to the coywolf to apply his brakes. He tried slamming his paws into the mud, but it slipped apart under him and a second later he barrelled into the female, paws first. He didn't move off the floor at first, but just uttered a simple "Sorry, 'bout that, bit slippery here don'cha think?"