Honeyed Pasture in the big rock candy mountains, there’s a land that’s fair and bright

Among the wolves of Teaghlaigh there was an unease. It was expected, in a sense, of the creatures forced to flee for the sake of their upcoming puppies. It was for the ones already here too, but still, Hemlock was uncomfortable with the notion of how she felt on them. She heard the cry of the ungulate the same as many others did - heads snapping up in attention of the chance for a real meal and not just the smaller scraps they'd gathered on their way. Hemlock approached the Banrion, shoulder briefly rubbing hers before she approached the male who'd seemed to come to the call too - Declan, she thought, and brushed against him briefly in passing. 

She'd be certain to clean herself up and mask herself properly once the night had passed and they were on the move again but she would not move until the next morning. Tonight she wanted to run with her wolves, she wanted to reacquaint herself and she wanted to be one with Teaghlaigh. In such a tumultuous time who could fault her that?