Redhawk Caldera The governer rests under the stars

Since joining the caldera wolves, Nashoba's wandering had not been entirely aimless, but, outside of hunting, she found herself meandering through the territory, exploring her new home. She expected that, with time, she would gain more of a purpose, but for now, her tenure in this land was still new, and she was still familiarizing herself with the whole situation.

She had not met many of her packmates, apart from Elwood. They had all seemed distant, wracked by some crisis Nashoba knew nothing about. So she had kept her distance from most of them, doing her own thing for the most part, seeking out food for the alphas' young pups. Therefore, she was surprised to stumble across a silvery-gray wolf laying in the shade of a shrub, looking defeated. He had the scent of her pack, and he had cried out in what sounded like grief; his silver eyes were sorrowful.

Nashoba weighed her options, hesistant. The kind thing to do would be to approach and offer some sort of solace to the gray. But kindness, nor empathy, had ever really come easy to her. She was hardened by her experiences, and emotions were things she did not handle easily. Nevertheless, she padded over and sat next to the wolf, not looking directly into his eyes.

"What's wrong?" Her tone was a little wooden, she being unused to words of comfort, but she said the words anyway, waiting for his response.