Phantom Hollow Call him Judas if you want, but he did it for reasons much older than silver

Pallas nodded: she was appreciative of this wolf's time, even if it was so little of it. She rose slowly, careful not to do it too abruptly in a manner that might surprise or cause Malice alarm. With a dip of her muzzle she surveyed the lands behind them, as if any of the packs Malice mentioned would be visible from their vantage. With deliberation she scrutinized the floodpans below them. The landscape looked ravished beyond the pale. "Hopefully, they will be gone soon." She thought just distantly she could see Otter Creek, though she knew not the name of it. "Do you know any of their names, and who would be welcoming of a loner?" She asked one final question, though her expression suggested the answer was important to her. In some ways, it was. She had learned of most of the packs through the mouths of strangers, though evincing names from them had always been a challenge.