Blackbeak Bluff the trick to life is not to get too attached to it

suddenly the coast seems booming with activity. samothes has not made much effort to make note of nearby packs beyond engel's ironsea, but the explosion of settling wolves is hard to miss. tactically, it makes him uneasy: their claim has longevity but their numbers are not strong enough to defend the forest, should territorial dispute break out.

for now there is little he can do but observe and wait and hope they strengthen their numbers. feeling the urge to roam, the messeda slips from their borders and makes his way toward the cliffs, coming to a stop where the green fields give way to darkened rock. winter feels neverending -- were it not for the cycles of women he would not realise how close they were to warmer days. will the arrival of new life in each pack stir them into aggression? (will ravensblood -- actually, he doesn't really care.) well. he hopes not, but who can say, except thank god his sister isn't going to have children.