Porcupine Ridge city of decay

Fox was wary of how close Jace and Ferdie seemed to be sticking. Their scents were heavy upon the Sunspire, and she thought they had laid claim to it. She disliked a pack so close. It made her tense, filled her with worry, and she wondered why they had chosen somewhere so close. There was no way they could be happy with her decision, so why stay so close? Why stick around? Why not flee to somewhere that they would not think of her every time they looked over the creek. Those were questions that she could not answer for them. They were also questions that she would not ask them to their face. She wished to see no more of them, and having them so goddamn close was not going to help that.

She evaded the Sunspire as soon as she caught wind of their scent, moving north toward the now-abandoned vale. There was little to see there, aside from rubble that had come of the landslide Lecter had spoken of. Like Ferdie and Jace, Fox did not wish to dwell on the wolves of the vale. They mattered little to her, so she paid them no mind now that they were gone.

A figure drove itself into her sight, and Fox studied the outline of it for a moment. It was a wolf, no doubt. The wind was not in her favor, so she could not detect other attributes about it, so she moved toward the dark creature with curiosity. Surely he would smell and see her before she got to him.