Swiftcurrent Creek inhale that drug, but you start to choke; you follow the outs of an inside joke

He was able to take a more hands on approach with their children, now that Durnehviir was able to expel some of her energy and leave the den for lengthier stints. She was never gone long – but the dark wolf did revel in the moments he had with their brood, despite feeling as if he was completely out of his element.
 
He was nosing a wrestling match between two of them now with a gentle firmness when the howl resounded across their home, causing him to give pause, a frown falling on his features. Within moments, Durnehviir had returned with Samothes close behind her.
 
There pace was fast – and as they came upon the scene of blood and fur, Constantine felt his mouth become dry. Durnehviir questioned Jagwyr while the Mayfair took in the chaotic scene in worried consideration. His nose dipped down, his nostrils flaring as they hovered over the tracks, and he felt his stomach churn uncomfortably.
 
There were so many now coming and going from their ranks and with only the copper scent of blood and patches of dark fur it was hard to determine who it was that had likely met such an unfair demise. Mentally, he went through the check list of dark furred wolves within their ranks. Koji. Chusi. Samaantine. Ingram.
 
“It’s Ingram,” he noted then, his words quiet. “Wylla’s brother.”