Blackfoot Forest toil and trouble

I am making shit up left right and center here.

Their base was a sheltered clearing not ten feet from where Fox was standing. Trees huddled protectively over it, forming a tangled ceiling of dark, spindly limbs over what looked like a stagnant pool of water. Someone had ringed it with big stones, and small green and brown continents floated on the murky surface like continents in an ocean. Everywhere there was foxes, clustered in groups of two and three around this strange, unpleasant-smelling centerpiece.

Ramona stood at the very center, bending over the water with a look of deep concentration on her ragged face. Every now and then she would blow on the floating slime and mutter unintelligably to herself. Eventually, she looked up, snout pointing somewhere far off to the left of where Fox stood. Diligent Damara scurried forward, nudging her matriarch's cheek to correct this - for that she received a fierce nip and absolutely no thanks.

"That angry boy," Ramona finally replied, sounding impatient. "You keep him busy and you keep him watched, little baby alpha wolf, little dear-heart, lest he explode all over your pretty things - yes," she wheezed, "That angry, angry boy.."