Sleepy Fox Hollow but a part of me knows I'm growing too old

The wolf who met them first was not Mahler, but Wylla fancied herself ruler of Paleo still. She arrived promptly and with body language laced with suspicion.

Two younger, hale wolves stood upon the borders of Paleo, one chased in silver, the other pale as snow with a skin slung across her back, quite reminiscent of Kukutux. That they had summoned Mahler specifically was the only thing stopping the thorny little Sonnenwasser from meeting them head-on as a threat. What else could a young pair like them want from a small family pack, if not to test the strength of its leaders in a bid to take the hollow for themselves? Mahler had done the same himself once.

If she had met either of these wolves before, even Argent who had come and gone from Mahler's packs in the past, she had no recollection of it. She was as brusque and unapologetic as ever in asking, what do you want? Maybe a touch more brusque than usual; paranoia and worry were constant companions these days as spring reached for summer and still Wylla was not receptive.