Otter Creek south

Bazi listened with keen interest to the tale of Swiftcurrent's beginnings, nodding the 'of course, of course' nod whenever it was appropriate. It surprised her to hear that the Creek pack was so fresh out of the mold, but she didn't know why; a more established pack would have a higher proportion of relatives - litter-mates and parents at the very least; it only took a couple of year to produce those two tiers. Theirs was a gang of stragglers, but the bonds between them grew stronger every day. Soon, they would be indistinguishable from an organic family.

She assumed 'perhaps foolishly' was a reference to Fox's age. Njal was older and he had a mate - but that didn't predispose him to alphaship in any way. A leader needed natural drive, and Fox had it. To hear that she knew without a shadow of a doubt that the pack would be hears to lead made a shiver of pride run down the length of Bazi's spine. The women outnumbered the men at present, each one strong and passionate in their own way. These were the foundations of a pack that could only go from strength to strength.

"Do you think we will stop adding strangers to our numbers once Tuwawi's pups are grown - and yours come?" she asked, looking into the Creek's future. "Or will it depend on the wolf? I've been looking at candidates of late - lone wolves, one in particular," she meant Galileo, the wise old male with the warm, brown eyes, "But I don't see a need to actively look when we've got Creek-born stock to nurture."