Hushed Willows Forward

It was ludicrous that she be made to wait. For every minute they waited, for every damnable hour, Harlyn's group could do true harm to the pack. It wasn't really the pack that Tavi worried about though — she thought of Tambourine, of the wound to his throat, and all the things she'd do to the next person to even breathe the same air as him. Her protection of him was overabundant, but to Tavi it was with good reason.

Still, she could not be with him all of the time. There were moments where hunger got the better of her, or the need to urinate, or even to scout bits of the border in an attempt to find some semblance of control over the situation; eventually she'd return to Tambrouine and the Crook, throwing the evil eye at anyone who dared to even shift their weight, and stay up till the long hours of the morning on guard.

Today, this moment anyhow, she was away from him. Tam was left in the care of Stark or Banner or one of the other very rare, very trusted wolves she hoped to take with her. While tracking the signs of a rabbit (somewhat poorly, as her mind was elsewhere) Tavi came upon a familiar scent. Or, it was familiar, but it wasn't, and it was layered. She slunk through the willows and cross the various ridges of the rocky terrain until the dark figure came in to view, and instantly Tavi was bristling, lifting her head like one might lift a hammer — and all she could see around her right now were nails.