Ravensblood Forest You're breaking up, you're on your own.

Durnehviir's teeth combed the soft ivory fur of her chest, plucking from it the twigs and dirt that had gathered in her wanderings through the forest. When satisfied, she smoothed the pale tresss with a gentle sweep of her tongue before setting about working on the next section of her coat. Should she decide to present herself to Constantine in the days to come, the russet Frostfur wished to be pristine.

The arrival of another was unexpected, and she jerked her head to the side at the soft chuff of a pack-mate. Wild champagne eyes sought his form among the bleeding trees and she rumbled gently - a quiet warning to keep his distance. He stepped into view and Durnehviir gathered herself, hackles pricklinging to attention until her bold guard hairs stood erect along the length of her spine. 

For a long time, it had only been Samothes, Constantine and herself to call Ravensblood their home. She admired his loyalty to their small group and liked him well enough, but it didn't protect him from her flaring hormones. She stared at him for a while, silent and unmoving, waiting for him to make his intentions known.