Stone Circle No, sir, I don't mess around.

ever since wren had been accepted into easthollow, she had been quietly contributing to the pack by the little things such as patrolling and hunting. however, she still hadn't been able to find a suitable den, and whenever she slept, she found a flimsy shelter and hoped her fur would keep her warm enough to survive the night. wren had always been an exeptionally independent creature, surprising for a wolf, and she hated asking for help even though she knew she needed it. so she survived by herself - her inherent shyness forbiding herself from interacting with her packmates, and her individualistic tendecies further increasing this unhealthy independence.

today, wren had just finished her morning patrol and was wandering through easthollow, mentally mapping down the landscape. however, halfway through doing so, she got pulled into one of her numerous and intense daydreams. she didn't notice the branch in front of her until it was too late, and with a loud crash, she toppled over into the freezing white snow. little did she know that in front of her lay the gray furred beta that she'd met some days before, and that she might've accidetally woken him up from his well-deserved nap.