Silvertip Mountain by cloud and mist abated

For Tonravik.

Leto's excursion to Going-to-the-Sun Mountain and her subsequent trek across the Flatlands had brought her here, to the vast wilderness where a pack's scent was rapidly decaying from a forest's trees, but another pack's cologne was carried on the morning mists that shrouded the base of an interminable height of mountain. She had been quite close to turning back, her scouting excursion having been all but completed for the immediate area, but curiosity now intrigued her, and the idea occurred to her that announcing herself and her intentions with Bon Dye to neighboring packs might be a very politically prudent thing to do.

So it was with this thought in mind that Leto lifted her head in a howl. I seek an audience with the Alpha. It was an almost blunt pronouncement, but being direct was the only way she saw to go about this, if she were to gain this pack's backing. As an ally, they could be useful. Although they were a relatively nearby pack, Leto would have bet a deer's rear end that no one else in Bon Dye knew of them, since she'd heard no chatter about them. That meant she might have exclusive information, and that sort of thing was valuable. And if she met against a challenger for the leadership position of Bon Dye, or if Jinx returned and overturned Leto's rule, the half-coyote wanted somewhere to seek sanctuary in the face of the oncoming winter.

A fair distance from what seemed to be the marked borders, Leto stood solid as stone, her head held high as she squinted into the mist in an attempt to make out the mountainside, but her body and tail held perfectly neutrally.