Golden Glade Territorial Pissings (All of Your Base are Belong to Us)

Today's the day! Tagging the raiding party: @Jhala, @Dagfinn, @Moonbrook, @Silas, @Laurel!

That morning, well before the first light reflected off of the freshly fallen snow, Reek roused the troops that he and his mate had gathered. He left the most important task to @Tambourine; since he was unable to fight, he was charged to watch Reek and Jhala's two young boys and to keep them out of trouble. He was sure they'd be no issue, because Reek had also told @Astik to keep an eye on @Tapat as well. With the boys tucked safely away in the thicket to the north, Reek led his band of wolves in the direction of the pack that they would soon take for themselves. The Glade.

He was confident in the abilities of his wolves, but that did not stop a nervous prickling from settling in Reek's chest. They were walking into uncertainty, all of them. There was no turning back now -- victory was the only option. He supposed the element of surprise would play in their favor. They reached the border by dawn, just as the sun was barely peeking over the stark white horizon. With the scent of pack all around them, an instinctual deterrent hardwired in all wolves, Reek fought his own nature to lead his band past the borderline.

And deeper into the territory the six-strong militia quietly traveled. When deep enough into enemy territory, Reek motioned for his wolves to stop. He reared back and lifted his voice to the heavens in a long and confident war cry that said simply: this pack, and everything in it, belongs to me.