Silvertip Mountain summoning

Border patrol was one of the many duties required of Tartok's members. Hunting, filling caches, and establishing dens were important as well, however, there was an air of urgency as the young pack began to settle on the virgin lands of Silvertip Mountain. Establishing and defending the borders was the of the utmost priority, as their lines had already been breached by the bold and careless. Tuwawi marked as she moved along the fringes of Tonravik's range, guided by those who had walked here before her.

She felt oppressed by dusk's humid air as she walked, and wondered if this long summer would ever come to a close. The craggy mountains had provided some relief from the sweltering sun, but it had been minimal at best. Just as the moon began to rise over the land, a long howl announced the arrival of some wolf unknown. With a burst of energy, Tuwawi kicked off into a steady run to intercept whoever waited at Tartok's doors.

Her ruddy ears rolled forward as her gait transformed into a lofty, assertive trot. Physically, she did not look the part of a Tartok wolf. She was a small, but rugged, fiery redhead with unkempt hair and attitude to spare. Much unlike the silent monochrome bear-wolves that made up the majority of Tartok's lineage. Despite this, she did manage to share some traits with her adopted "family," particularly the propensity to rise.

With a steely gaze and a waving rigged tail, Tuwawi approached, evaluating the pale she-wolf. She appeared young and alone, with no backup in sight. "Who are you. What do you want," she stated with her usual raspy voice, overly blunt and perhaps a little uptight. There was no more room for mistakes. No unprivileged wolf would cross their borders again.