Blackfeather Woods most times, a ghost is a wish

two wolves against one was cruel. but three.. was an evisceration. 

astara watched as her mother rose and lunged for the wolf’s muzzle, as wintersbane partied for shoulder - her own head snaked low to the ground, guarding the realm around her dam’s feet. 

but then the wolf tried to talk, and goaded into frustration by the insolence of the stranger and the building ire of her clan, astara slunk into motion. 

wintersbane and Relmyna afforded the wolf the kind courtesy of approaching her from the front. astara made no such proposition. she drove away, prowling wide around the swing of fang and claw. when it seemed she had called off her interest in fending for her home, her position changed - she lunged from her vantage with an alligator snap, teeth aiming for open hock. if she met her mark, it would all soon be over.