Bitterroot Valley mary, mary, quite contrary

Her stance remained rigid as she looked upon the raven-furred wolf, her eyes as hard as stone as they stared in his general direction. It took him a moment or so to find her and once she felt his stare she puffed herself up a little taller. Even though she was alone she was still within her pack’s borders and that made her felt safe. Despite this, she was still entirely naive to the fact that this stranger could easily breach the borders.

As he asked of new things, her head tilted quickly and confusion overtook her. She didn’t know just what “new” meant, but she would take her best jab at it. “My Heda’s pack,” she replied cooly, her confusion melting into a front of confidence. Little did she know that she was giving the stranger the wrong impression of their pack.