The Tomb of the Forest

She came, and she went. Tonravik noted the other wolf in a manner that was hardly duly; while her eyes struck his figure for a brief instant, there was nothing more that she did to acknowledge him. She could not tell that he did not want to be bothered, but she attributed others to herself sometimes, and she for certain did not. She was scouting for prey, far more important than scouting for wolves that would not offer their service. Perhaps he would have, and perhaps he might; but she would not waste his time, as she hoped he would not waste hers.

Strong, able limbs carried her forward into the coniferous lands. She sought any herd, big or small, but as of yet one could not be found. The alpha knew there was one nearby; she could see it in the tufts of fur here and there (although they were few and far between). There was recent markings of their own as well, which could not be ignored. And so she would continue to look.