Blacktail Deer Plateau I call through the fog

You are such a vivid writer. Wow. :)

Atticus continued to be on high alert, his senses attuned to everything around him like radar at a military base. His ears strained to listen for a snapping twig, a crunching leaf, telltale signs of a lurking danger nearby. His eyes scanned the darkness, searching for movement among the shadows, eyes gleaming in the dark. His nose twitched attentively, in case the gentle breeze brought him the scent of an intruder. His recent fight with the trespasser from Silvertip Mountain had awakened something instinctive and savage in him, and if someone else had come to threaten them -- threaten her -- he would scatter their bones from here to Greatwater Lake.

His senses brought him no evidence of a threat, though, and after a moment, Blue Willow sat up in the tall summer grass and he heard her quiet answer, Right here. He approached her slowly, taking in the sight of her as he did. She looked so frail, so afraid, so withdrawn into herself. What had frightened her so? He'd never seen Blue Willow so upset, in the entire time she'd been with their pack. He stopped a few paces away from her, his pale eyes sincere with concern as he looked her over to see if she was injured, and asked her in a soft, serious voice, "Did someone try to hurt you?"