Big Salmon Lake heavy

Always a creature of habit, Toad had barely strayed at all from the old Redhawk territory for a week. Game was fantastic in the summer months; she'd caught a fair few small animals, some of which were stored safely in caches not far away. This was hardly a position she wanted to be in for long, but she didn't quite know what else to do with herself just yet. Had the Redhawks still been about, and had anyone known of her other siblings' whereabouts, she might have ventured onward to better places. As it was, she was pleased to hang around an area she was beginning to know very well. Toad knew what kind of prey was about; she was learning more and more how to hunt them alone, and thus far nothing had told her of better pastures.

That day, Toad was moving after a successful hunt to the lakeside for some water and sun. Having been quite well fed the past week, she was pleased to enjoy summer's warmth and the pleasant natural sounds that surrounded the great lake. The brown she-wolf sauntered, relaxed as she moved toward the wonderful scent of fish and water.

A brown wolf, not coloured so differently from herself, stooped over the bank to drink. Toad did not slow her easy pace, but instead pricked up her ears and gave a short half-bark to announce her presence. Her tail remained low. She, as usual, showed no sign of posturing or anxiety. Instead, she too, bent over the bank several metres away from the other to take a nice drink.