Swiftcurrent Creek we are beautiful, we are doomed

Still half asleep, the girl was oblivious to the watchful eyes of a wolf until a close howl drew her from her daydreams and she too turned towards the noise. Trail forgotten, she regarded him for a moment before falling into step behind him. From the way he was poised to his voiceless direction, this wolf oozed with a sense of practiced command. Bellatrix's words floated in her head - this must be Akavir. There would be time for introductions later - for now the call at the borders was more pressing. 

Such pressure it was to now be in Bellatrix's shoes; Pan held her head high to hide her quaking nerves as she let Akavir take the lead, eager to observe.