Raven's Watch I was following the pack,

He watched them from high up; the dark stones and smattering of trees along this part of the moor kept him obscured, though Solpallur was not so easily hidden away. The icy breath of the air here had kept the ravens close as of late and the wolves that lurked along their territory were more or less accepted.

Viola was a newer face in their group, though her name was lost to him. She smelled of the others, of Stjornuati strongest of all, and it was with some begrudging that he did not descend the mountain immediately to accost her. She seemed entranced by another pale raven—it wasn’t the other one he had seen flying about—and that was enough to give him pause. Consideration, at best.

But the other female was not of them, and it was the reason that loosened him from the stones.

He dropped in defensively between them, a bristling and fang-showing protector at the intrusion of their sanctuary. Words were unnecessary—he made his demands with a glimmer of teeth that clicked together in an ugly display. Why was she there, trying to mingle with his own? Was she a scavenger? A predator coming to prey? He knew too little of the wolves in this place, but he knew that the pack that had lived among the willows were fierce and sly.