Duskfire Glacier if we are always the same

"Afternoon, Iana." A sliver of a smile traced her dark lips. Her tail slowed in the steady beat in the air, but her posture remained open and accepting. "Not at all." She quipped assuredly. "I was making my rounds, and in fact, I wouldn't mind an extra nose assisting me." She angled her dark head towards the deeper recesses of the tree line. The slight backing of her ears showed her mild displeasure. "We have a guest hanging around a little too close for comfort. An adolescent coyote."

She inched forward with more deliberation in her step, to creep in amongst the trees. Not far in, there would be evidence of her claim. Paw prints in the mud, considerably smaller than their own. Traces of buff fur tufts snagged on rough bark. And the fresh scent that only could ever be identified as a coyote.

"He has been coming around daily. Thinks he might get an easy meal here." She turned her head to eye Iana from the side. "We may be small in number, but an established pack needs to send a clear message to any looters." Back in the day, in the long gone Nightwalkers, making examples of coyotes through brutality was a daily occasion. But now, Tzila was not quite the same woman. "Together we can track him down, push him further out. Then he may get the idea."