Dragoncrest Cliffs In a fruit fight, I aim at your Adam's apple

The howl disrupts her attention and she swivels her ears, curious. It has direction, for wolves of Drageda, but the sound is unfamiliar and she moves anyway, despite it not being for her. Her feet are quick as she weaves through the forest in the direction the fall came from. She keeps an eye out for either side of her for Portia, or her on, but for the time being she does not spot them.

Warmth has settled on the ear the puts a rumble in her chest, the fur of her hackles lifting around her mane as she gets closer. The smear of red on the otherwise snowing ground gives her a few answers. The source of heat burning the air and what she assumes the source of the call. Prince’s approach does not go unnoticed but his hesitance to get rid of the trespasser does less than please her. Her tail lashes and she kicks her feet into ear, lips peeled back angrily as she charges the wolf sprawled out on the ground.