Sun Mote Copse wandering through broken shadows

She describes her home. He does not recall seeing a thicket, only raised earth. He had been occupied with their numbers at the time. Established packs interest him more than fledgling ones. Although there is a charm in staking a claim and founding a pack alongside those you wish to run with. And there is no shortage of those seeking to establish themselves. Having done so once before with Gnarled Oak Bend, Natjuk finds his interest split in two.

Family. The word bloomed pain afresh. Natjuk keeps it hidden. He'll not languish openly; absolutely not in front of another he just met. He knows nothing of his standing with his family members and that burns him up inside. Would his family forgive him for leaving so soon after his father's impromptu demise? They were the savage sort, not quick to forgive or forget. No, he concluded. No, they would not.

Not really, he rejoins sleekly. Were he a colloquial sort, he would have announced his own professions of fighting and hunting. Pity he's blunted in that department.

I take it you are aware of the forming pack south of your plateau. The creek is not terribly far from the Redhawks but it would bother Natjuk to have neighbors right up his arse. Nonetheless, the statement is there to assess her reaction.