Ankyra Sound I'm out here sipping from the bottle of a molotov cocktail

Ephraim, the packmate she knew next to nothing about, was not alone in the way he felt. Tzila had begrudgingly volunteered for this event, but only because she felt that she was in debt to Olive and Elysium. They were assigned as a team, sent to a pack by the name of Rusalka. She had never heard of this group before. But by merely observing the slender male's behavior, she concluded that he very much did.

Days before their journey, she had set about her task of gathering up bits and goodies for the pregnant females and their young. Tzila had never really given much thought to motherhood, but she had enough common sense to know what would make for a fine gift, and what would not. So, in her jaws hung a discarded pair of deer antlers she had found, the sharp points filed down to blunt knobs for safety. Laced within them was a thick lining of moss, some ginger root (cause what kid didn't get an upset tummy?) a nicely skinned fox pelt (fully intact) and a vibrant tigers eye stone that would capture the imagination of any pup. As she and Ephraim arrived just outside the borders of the pack, she set her bundle down and sent him a glance after he called. The look on her face was clear. Questioning...puzzled. Why in the heck are you so nervous? She'd have to watch herself...to tuck away her normally sour attitude so as not to offend the welcoming committee.