Sequoia Coast Like whirlpools

"It is the place of all wolves," she said softly, turning to lead them closer to the cliffs. Their territory would be ringed by them, shut off from the outside world but for a narrow passage leading to the top and the sands at the edge of the bay. She seemed steady on the sand despite its movement underfoot. Psamathe was most comfortable here on the beach, but refused to show any of her discomfort in going elsewhere to anyone except her blood sister. Only Aktaie knew of her unwillingness to travel far from the coast without an escort.

"This Bay you mentioned," she said conversationally while twisting her head back to glance at Caiaphas, "how many are they, do you know?" The last thing they needed was direct competition. "They pose us no threat, I am sure, but it's good to know what we're up against," she said to clarify, her soft voice never once wavering in its confidence. Deep inside, she didn't believe what she said—a nearby pack could threaten their existence gravely—but, as with all things, Psamathe sought not to reveal her inner thoughts.