Swiftcurrent Creek Blackfish

Moss yawned and stretched, as she turned her back on the borders. Another long patrol completed, no new joiners, no trespassers, nothing worth more in any way, just the way she liked-

Did she hear a howl? She paused, and sighed. No. She was tired, it was time for her to go back to her spot near the creek, curl up, and have a nap. She trudged forward and with an immediate groan, yanked her head to the side and headed back for the borders, like an old nag being ridden by children.

The wolf at the borders wasn’t much more than a child, but was in rough shape. She huffed, pushing her whiskers forward as she inhaled his scent which smelled of other wolves, the wilderness, the sea. Something about him was off; he was far too spent to have simply come here by chance, and he had wounds that had not yet healed. 

”Running?” She asked bluntly.