Porcupine Ridge wizened and weary

Of course, Novak— an impressive wolf clearly bred for the slanted precipices of a mountain, and with a cousin who knew the trick to hunting the prickly creatures she had yet to see before— would know the trick to hunting them himself. Diane's face lit up, her otter-tail beginning to beat back and forth at the prospect of a hunt. "That would be grand, Novak!" she said, sounding quite thrilled. But in forgetting herself, she set her foreleg down completely and was harshly reminded of her injury. Her expression darkened as she picked up her foreleg again and gazed elsewhere. If porcupines were very fast, she wouldn't be able to participate.

"I don't think I can chase anything today..." she said, yet unaware that the art of 'pine hunting was more a game of strategy than physical exertion.