Blackfeather Woods Trying to fit a square inside a circle

Ah. No mother to speak of. Or perhaps it was as in her pack, that males were shunned at birth, killed or forced onto disgraced shewolves? 
Regardless, he playfully asks her for a new name, and she pauses. 
Naming was a ritual. But after a moment, spirit whispered. And when spirit whispered, she had a duty to listen. 
"Deimos. Dread Bringer." Yes. A fitting name for a ruler of a warrior clan. She hoped he would choose it. 
She frowned as he named the two packs in question, and titled them both as enemies. Why had spirit lead her to such a hostile land? Was she meant to make peace? If she aligned herself with the enemy of the pack directly adjacent to her, it might bring trouble. He seemed to wait, to watch her, and she realized this was another test, another lesson. 
"Until my Daughters are larger, and properly established, I will reserve any involvement that doesn't directly affect us. We serve spirit first." 
It seemed the safest decision. When she had a Dragon, and a Soothsayer, these matters would be easier.