Heron Lake Plateau i.x : who was only a stranger at home

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With the pack filling up before winter, Niamh felt surprisingly comfortable with the fact that they would get by fine, without having to worry about food conflicts. If they hunted collectively as a group, they would be able to fend off other hunters, and expand their hunting grounds by sheer force. True, they had a large amount of youngsters, but they were adult sized or near it, so they too could pitch in. She'd been anxious about the winter- and she still did not like the snow or the cold- but at least having more members in the pack meant more security and that was something that made her quite happy. They were thriving; not all packs could say that, she supposed. 

She was surprised to hear yet another summon from the borders- they'd taken in six wolves in the past week or so, and she hadn't really expected for many others to wander by...But sure, she thought- it couldn't be a bad thing. The more wolves they had in their pack, the less there would be joining the other fledgeling packs in the Hinterlands that gave Niamh an unfounded feeling of contempt. She tilted her head back and howled in response, alerting the stranger that she was on her way, and took off at a trot, edging her way along the border territories until she could smell the loner...And the stench that greeted her was foul.

The wolf who had howled with a voice tinged with sorrow, unfortunately, was also a sorry sight. Niamh's ears flicked somewhat nervously as she looked the female over, taking note most predominantly of her flaws which made her hackles prickle slightly. The unkempt and dirty pelt, accompanied by the reek of a wolf who had recently travelled through swamplands could be undone- but it did show that she didn't care how she was perceived by whoever met her at the borders....It was the same as showing up for a job interview in torn and tattered jeans and an old t-shirt, and smacked of a certain lack of respect. 

There was something incredibly unnerving about the macabre grin that marked the orange-eyed side of her face. The disfigurement gave her the look of a wolf who hungered and Niamh couldn't help but perceive the inadvertant show of her teeth with jarring suspicion. She also noticed the way one of her sooty forelegs bent at an unnatural angle; as far as Niamh could tell, this female had likely been through torture- she'd healed, it appeared, but Niamh's eyes remained narrowed and judgemental as she sized up the spectacle before her. Some might have been able to overlook the female's disfigurements, but Niamh was quicker to judge, and more willing to reject what she perceived as being weakness. 

She came to a halt and huffed, her beath forming a small, hazy cloud on the air before it disappeared. She abruptly gave her chin a jerk, gesturing to the woman as one might do to catch a stranger's attention...The motion was not friendly or welcoming, as a nod might have been, and might have seemed mildly accusational. "What do you want?" Niamh asked, ears pricking. Part of her just wanted to tell the dishevelled, disfigured creature to get lost and chase her out- the same way she would chase a coyote...But that might be frowned upon by those more inclined to show mercy, so she tempered her ire for the moment. 

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