Sun Mote Copse conflagration

The illidu-dam still haunted her, but that storm was calming her. Only the vestiges of her fear, of the memory of the little limp body between her jaws, remained. Burying one of the children had helped her find closure, and the sudden business that came with Giana finished what the burial could not. Ragna had returned to her old routine, stalking along the border, quick and quiet. The mere act of walking the line strengthened it, but Ragna further reinforced it by urinating on bushes and rubbing against trees. If prey should catch her eye, she would chase it, and take up her patrol again once the kill was safetly cached.

It was not prey that caught her eye today, but wolf. You are too close, Ragna called when she was near. These are the borders of the Malkaria. Her voice was commanding, for she felt strongest when she was protecting her own. She stood firm, prowling closer, the dominance of her posture fitting finely with the fierocity with which she guarded her pack.