Emberwood Or a sum of your parts just hanging in the air?

Since the birth of her litter almost two months prior, Durnehviir had not trailed beyond Swiftcurrent's borders. She'd relied heavily on her mate and subordinates to defend the land and hunt, while she tended to the pack's firstborn litter. Even when her children had been weaned, the russet Frostfur was loathe to leave them under another's watch for too long, as the darkness surrounding their recent bear attack still clouded her mind.

It was a small herd that led her away, as she tracked their prints along the river's edge until they branched off into the neutral Emberwood. She'd counted at least four sets of cloven tracks in the softer earth along the creek, travelling North to likely settle in the safety of its dense forest. Durnehviir had no intention of hunting one herself, but information on their location and numbers could be useful.

Moving slow and careful as night crept in, the crimson wolfess' ginger ears pricked at a nearby sound. She stopped briefly, lifting her proud muzzle to scan the area through the low branches, and twitched her nose curiously. A quick whiff of the air alerted her to the presence of other wolves, to which she rumbled inwardly; while they weren't situated on her borders, they were perhaps a little too close for comfort.

The dragoness pressed on, alerting herself with a low chuff and a dipped crown to display that she meant no harm. It would be foolish to flag dominantly in the company of a larger gathering when she was entirely alone, but Durnehviir was unwilling to ignore them entirely. Champagne eyes lingered on the strangers, wondering of their intentions in the woods so close to her home, and waited for acknowledgement.