Fox's Glade and an arid wind brought him the sound of voices calling his name

At the pace of a strong trot, and brimming with dissatisfaction, Paladin cut through the glade of foxes with all the compassion of that one boulder from Raiders of the Lost Ark. The sparse, heavily dappled canopy of this woodland for ants, was far from her ideal choice of home; not to mention the pervading scent of lesser canines. She would loathe to die in a place like this, knowing that her soul would never rest among the pitiful screeches of rat-wolves.

It would not even be worth hunting here, she thought, although she could not help the way her nose twitched, or the rumble of her stomach, at even the slightest whiff of prey. The she-wolf was almost glad when the silhouette of another wolf began to materialize, effectively distracting her from the litany of disdain and refusals cycling through her inner monologue.

The other’s stature was nothing to scoff at, bringing the ironwhite to a standstill. She could not feel safe putting such a creature at her back, and she was not foolish enough to approach without first gauging the wolf’s response to her. Paladin stood back, tail swaying to lightly dust at her hocks, and wordlessly hailed the hooded specter, inviting the executioner nearer.