Swiftcurrent Creek we might just make it

Falwasi paced up and down the creek, the ground soft beneath her paws. She was new to this territory, presuming some wolf would confront her. She stayed near the soft ruckus of the creek, where she felt comfortable, ignoring the crisp air. Pacing was one of her habits. When she was deep in thought she would pace for hours, mowing down the grass as she retraced the exact same steps. Today, she walked in a figure of eight. Drowning in a sea of thoughts, she resurfaced to an unfamiliar smell. Another wolf was nearby.

Falwasi caught sight of a small, piercing white she-wolf making her way down the creek. Fal didn't know this wolf, the only wolf in her pack she had met was Scimitar. The wolf must have caught her scent in the breeze. Fal steeled herself as she watched the other wolf nosing the banks.

She didn't say a word, she just observed.