Lake Rodney ii They watch their children.

The longer Norah spent out in the wilds, learning the terrain and drawing a mental map of, where what was located and which packs lived in the vicinity of her chosen home for winter, the clearer it was that it hosted just as many interesting individuals as Moonspear. Take this guy, for example, and his ordeal with a deer pelt. She would not have found him in the first place, were it not for the river water sullied by blood, fat and distinct tinge of innards. She had refused to drink from the polluted source, but had become intrigued, when she came across footprints and a soggy trail left by the wet deerskin. 

Had the fellow taken a nightly swim? Curiosity kicked in and she hastened her speed. The rogue in her, however, reminded her to be careful, therefore rather than tracking him step after step, she memorized the particular scent and followed its corridor at a distance. Wind blew in her direction, which was ideal for stalking, while remaining unseen. Finally, she caught sight of the silver-white brute by the river. She circled around him to have a better view and observed his doings for a while, before coming forward and asking: "Does it improve the taste?" She stood, where she could still flee easily, but just close enough for them to talk without raising their voices.