Lion Head Mesa scorpion

The scent of Pharaoh had been in Maggie’s resting place when Crowfeather had returned with more feverfew and poppy for the sleeping woman. At first, the dark wolf had crept inside. He had been fearful of seeing the man show any distaste for the work that had been done on his clan member.

After having found that Pharaoh wasn’t still there, Crowfeather had placed the herbs down beside Maggie, along with a small gopher that he had luckily grabbed on his journey back. If she woke, she would have food and medicine to whisk her back into slumber. Then, the shadow trekked after the mesa’s ruler with a swiftly sniffing nose.

Pharaoh prowled just ahead of the dark wolf. Crowfeather did not miss the posture of the man and felt that he should have kept to himself, not followed the scent. It was too late for that, though.

Ph- Pharaoh, the dark wolf yipped to the man, may I patrol with you?