Whitefish River The white wind calls

She had spent the morning doing her ususal—gathering herbs and checking on packmates. She was looking forward to spending the afternoon with her family as she often did once her morning chores were done. So with a large bundle of plants clasped gently between her teeth, she headed back to the den; she would lay them out and let them dry before storing them with her other herbs. 

As the entrance to the den came into sight, so did her pacing husband. His anxious energy was like fire against her senses, and her chest tightened with fear—had something happened to one of the children? She trotted forward and dropped her plants near the entrance before walking over to her mate. Emrik? she asked worriedly. What's wrong? So many things could make him act this way, and so her mind flooded with worry over what might be wrong.