Grouse Thicket They want to be loved by you

Maaargh. Had to happen.

Niamh stopped dead in her tracks when she heard someone call for her. The howl came from the thicket, which Niamh and many others widely considered to be sorrrrrt of claimed, at in the very least frequented as that was the main way in and out of the packlands, and was great for hunting. But it wasn't the fact that she'd been summoned that surprised her- no, it was the voice that called for her that gave her pause. There was no mistaking the fact that she was the one the male was searching for, but what troubled her was the fact that the voice sounded unmistakeably like Ambrose's. 

Not that it was bad news- but it surprised her to hear her littermate's voice in the area, calling for her. Did he know she was here? If so, how? Then again, there was a chance he was simply wandering through and had caught her scent in the area. Regardless, she made her way toward the borders, where her littermate had called from- but her focus, intent on finding Ambrose, distracted her, until she heard movement off to her flank in the thicket. She flinched, lowering her head and pricking her ears, baring her teeth in a surprised snarl. 

"Who's there?" She demanded.