Moonspear uvaagniq

Simbelmyne found herself searching the foothills for signs of prey, tracking through the hilly woodlands along both sides of the borders to broaden her range. The mountain peeked through gaps in the trees, an ever vigilant protector, she thought; and a watchful eye for those who did not belong to the place.

Snow melted by evening on the Western and Southern slopes, allowing a little bit of cool water to trickle down and turn the fallen leaves to mulch. The scent of autumn arose as a hearty perfume on the crisp air. 

She paused when she caught the scent of another wolf in the area, and for a few moments she struggled to identify if he belonged with them or not. She found Moonspear’s pack scent smelled so wild in comparison to the scent of her homeland, so she could not determine on her own whether the stranger belonged here. She continued to roam along the borders, curious to see if he might draw closer and provide some evidence one way or another of his affinity with Moonspear.