Boartusk Heights on the brighter side of grey

The woman was right. The boar would use its options - limited as they were - and try to escape harm. That's what prey did. A squint of her eyes at the creature was all she needed to come up with a plan. Wren rushed forward. Perhaps the animal was shocked at this brazen display, for it could only balk at the female. She leaned forward and grabbed at its front leg, not so much tearing into it but pulling it awkwardly forward.

The boar slipped, or stumbled, toward her. It's tusk dangerously close. Wren let go and avoided those things, circling to the side and blocking it from escaping so easily. Anger was a strong emotion. It flooded reason - even the will to survive. She'd keep hassling it. "Injure the back legs!" she suggested to the woman "if it gets away, it'll just be limping." And easier to catch up with should it try to leave.

Unaware she was on a pack's land - official or not - Wren was ignorant of the many scents. If she knew, she would have left. But would she still help the other wolf? Probably. Winter was almost here and pack wolves needed to eat. She wouldn't take from their cache.