Cassiopeia's View You man the island and the cocaine and the elegant cars

Pallas' head whipped around as she heard a yelp nearby. With an owlish stare she started towards the noise, her ears upright and assertive. When the Stormthorn rounded the rocky precipice she saw a mottled and dark wolf. She had hoped the wolf had sustained an injury during the hunt, but that was too convenient. The unhappy trum of her stomach caused her scowl as she looked at the poor creature who was now, apparently, attacking the rock. Summoning her inward pleasantry (there was none) she stepped forth and peered rudely down at the troubled wolf. It was like they didn't teach her to walk where she was from, or something.