Firefly Glen I'm sorry if I hurt you, I'm sorry if it got that bad

Wolf scent.

The earth leaked with its foulness. Yakwahe's nose inhaled sharply, wrinkling with intensity. With heavy paws he strode mindlessly over the border, tunnel vision setting in on the sounds and smells of three. It was the grey one he stalked, the one whose scent was heaviest along the perimeter of this wolf place. The she creature's trail was obvious.

None stopped him because of the groups closeness to their treasured border. Moving up behind and in the trees, no doubt the ones in front of her would see him, but he cared not. Furiously, he charged from the forest, hulking weight pounding against the ground as he reared up behind the grey one and roared, swiping a massive paw at her.