Swiftcurrent Creek Last Ride of the Day

The Creek's recent pack meeting had given Falwasi a lot to think about. One thing she was sure of was that the change in leadership had not affected her particularly, as she had more chances to interact with the cinnamon male. It didn't feel normal, but it felt fine. She would become accustomed to it, like she had done with the land and water of her new home.

Padding towards the Womens' Glade in hope of a quiet evening ponder, she caught a whiff of an unfamiliar wolf, though evidence of her own was carried faintly with it. Lackadaisical from the heaviness and lull cast over the impinging night, the honeyed wolf made her way to the grove of trees, trying to make out the wolf.

Sounds of drinking reached the girl's ears, and soon her eyes met those of a deeply hued male. A smile twitched at Falwasi's lips and, unable to suppress the temptation, she said: "What part of Womens' Glade don't you understand? Unless, of course, you are a woman." She stood serenely, awaiting his response in the unusually dull blue atmosphere.