Blacktail Deer Plateau in the shape of a heart

Ooo, now I can use this toward my chronicler mastery!

Fox could tell at once that it was a test. Blue wanted to know how she acted under pressure. Thankfully, despite not getting Bones back to them, Fox really had done everything that she could have without risking the safety of her pack. The yearling began to tell the story of that fateful night as best as she could remember it. “I heard a struggle in the middle of the night. A few Tortuga wolves, including Bones’s mother, Cutlass, came to take her away.” Fox spat the woman's name with disgust. “I got there as quickly as I could, and there was a brief standoff. It was clear that Bones wanted to stay at the creek, her home. When Cutlass began to use force, we fought them, tooth and nail.” It had been anything but pretty.

“We killed two, maybe three of their own, and the other one became our captive, but he could give us no more information. I couldn’t leave the creek, and I couldn’t just send one or two wolves to go after her; Tortuga is a large, powerful, and ruthless pack. Fighting against the whole of them would mean defeat and death.” Cutthroat had proven himself useless as an informant (thought he had been good eye candy), though a worthy pack-mate. It was, perhaps, the only good thing to come out of the whole ordeal. Fox still couldn't see what Atticus had seen in the nasty, ugly wench. At least Fox had ripped off a good portion of her skin when she'd gotten away.