Not Suitable for a Pup

Jinx's plan had been smoothly set into motion, and while she did not presume to begin placing scent markings — what would Katrina and Styx think if she came home reeking of her own urine rather than the pungent odour of their borders? — her presence was very much felt. She spent a vast quantity of time in Blackfoot Forest, returning to Neverwinter only often enough so as not to elicit suspicion before once more making that arduous trek out here to familiarise herself with the scenery. Here, Sos had come to her in a vision, and here, she would begin to lay the framework for His intentions.

However, first she would need to drive the curious from the forest. There were many, drawn in by the keening wail of the fox, a sound that was not unfamiliar to her but to so many others, it was like the haunting cry of ghosts. To so many others, there was no other earthly sound like it. She had found, upon one of her walks through the woods, a disturbing collection of murdered foxes, but finding no omen in them, had cleared them out as if they were insignificant, and as far as she was concerned, they were.

Today, however, she would be clearing out a much less dead thing, but no less miniscule. Her ears, attentive and cautious as they were now that she was making strides towards establishment, had picked up quickly the sound of a yelp; although she oft would respond with compassion in the face of a frightened cub, this was to be her territory, and no frightened cubs would be permitted to flee into its depths whenever they wished. It was an important lesson that she would swiftly and mercilessly impart upon whatever creature chose to become lost in her woods.

And her fury was righteous, for although she had not explicitly marked anything, for the above-mentioned reasons, her scent was all around regardless, from the glands on her paws and the fur she brushed against the foliage. And so when she bore down on Créme, she did so without the brush of feminine mercy, but instead, as an angry Alpha bears down on any trespasser: with jaws wide in a growl. She paused short of the cub, not quite so savage as to lash out instantly at it, but she did however intend to frighten, moreso than the screaming foxes that were ever-present would.

“Who allowed you on my turf?” she growled, holding herself stiffly with fur on end and tail arched.