Golden Glade Monster That I Despise

A yawn was bit back as Wren trekked along. She had slept relatively well lately but her sleeping was deep and full of dreams. The brunette knew what it was about - her old pack, old friends and old lands... Perhaps a nightmare or two splashed in for good measure. It was because of those that she decided to get a running start.

Training was not something she typically did. Wolves she had fought before the Teekons had been more or less primative. They reacted like a coiled snake being prodded. Wren sought to better herself through technique. She wanted to do more than chomp on random places. The scent of a Saint wolf filled the air - one she hadn't met.

Recalling Derg and the charcoal woman she had helped with a hunt, she approaches.