Phoenix Maplewood and way down we go

Aqakuktuq was headed for a familiar stream she'd been to just days before when an unfamiliar call sounded in the direction of her pack. Confused and alarmed, she loped back to the temporary campsite, slowing to a trot when she saw the others gathered. They were facing two southerners―pack wolves, clear from the scents mingling on their coats. Wait, were these wolves from Morningside? Sunny's pack? They came from the direction she distinctly remembered him describing, and this was the same forest she'd met the boy in. These wolves, however, did not appear as friendly as he had been.

The fisherwoman came to a stop next to Uki behind the others, not wanting to become too involved until she could get a grasp on what exactly was going on. She caught the tail end of the rusty agouti male's question, but that was precisely the question she was asking, herself. Siarut and the silver woman were both on edge, and Aqakuktuq hoped that a fight would not break out for both sides' sake. If it came down to it, though, the Inuit would fight for the pack she pledged to. But for now, she observed the situation behind a cool mask. All the while, a raven watched from the safety of a high perch, wise enough to stay out of the wolves' business.