Kintla Flatlands Gone Fishin'

Kaihra moved through the land, alone once again. Over the past few weeks she had grown increasingly comfortable with her lowly position among the Plateau wolves. There had been a point in time when she had risen in rank, when she had put her best efforts forth to come to know her packmates and be known by them. But half of those she had taken to had left for one reason or another, and half she'd not had the social finesse to come to know beyond mere acquaintance. A part of her argued to involve herself deeper, but logic told her that there was no point in getting attached to others when those wolves would just leave you in the end.

The disconnect had developed days after the change brought by Peregrine's departure. Strangely enough, she'd found herself drawn to the land beyond the Plateau, and it was here she wandered now, though she did not leave the Plateau's shadow. Her travels were not aimless, nor for pleasure's sake: she sought to hunt and provide for the pack, acutely aware of the winter that fast approached and all that had yet to be done.

When a howl lighted the air, Kaihra slowed to a stop, her spine prickling at the closeness of the source. The masculine voice rose from the riverbank rushing mere pawsteps from her place behind a small copse of trees. Though the howl sounded far from threatening, she flattened her ears and scanned through the spaces between the boughs until her eyes lighted upon a youthful form, dabbling his toe tips in the fast flowing waterbed. She made no movement toward him and merely watched through calculating eyes as she assessed the formidable boy - and caught a whiff of the Plateau's unmistakable scent on his mottled coat.