The Sunspire I miss the taste of a sweet life

As she strode along the imaginary line between pack and outland, she thought of her old family. She wondered briefly whether or not Quail and Rodeo had continued their tradition of chasing out their yearling children, or whether Ptarmigan alone had been given that privilege. It made sense to keep them around, and it was what she intended to do if ever she had legitimate children.

She was broken out of her thoughts when a red-furred wolf descended from the pack's interior. Spurred by years of skirting pack lands, Ptarmigan hastily sidestepped away from the border proper, though she stayed in close vicinity. It wasn't until her hybrid friend drew nearer that she was recognized and greeted with a jovial wave of Ptarmigan's tail.

Something was different, though. Where Red had been so amiable before, even inviting the Endore to join her at the lake in the centre of the aspen forest, she was now stand-offish. It was almost as though Ptarmigan was doing something wrong (she was). “Chill,” she said as soothingly as she could, but it still came out sounding judgemental, even though judgement wasn't aimed at Red at all. “I'm not hurting anyone.”