Blackfeather Woods but there's chaos brewing underneath my skin

the woman responds to his question, her words polite. it's hard for him to believe that anyone didn't realize the dark woods were claimed — though perhaps their infamy isn't as well spread as he'd like to believe ( although oft he wars with himself on whether that is a good thing or a bad thing ). even so, he gets the feeling that blackfeather is one of the older — if not the oldest — packs in these wilds though he does not know it's full history. while wintersbane acknowledges that history is important his focus tends to stray to both present and future. the past is the past for a reason, after all.

wintersbane studies her with a slight lift of his chin, his curiosity clinical. her explanation is satisfactory and she is far enough away from the borders that the tundrian — though extremely territorial all the same — does not feel the need to be excessive or chase her off. so why does she linger? the question presents itself silently to wintersbane and he worries it for a few moments like a dog worrying a bone. is there something else you need? her lingering suggests to wintersbane that she's curious and he is not a fan of anyone loitering around their woods ...regardless of if there is plenty of respectful distance between body and borders.

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