Bearclaw Valley That the past is real II

The sentinel stone was warm beneath her; it made it almost too easily to sunbathe and drift off when she was supposed to be keeping an eye on the valley's one open entrance. The field beyond the valley was broad and open, and she watched in the early morning as deer made their way into the open to paw through the snow and graze. She watched in the evenings as coyotes danced; at night, an owl hunted, diving down to plunge its talons into the snow to grab a little rodent, before silently winging off again. 

She'd begun to blink lazily when the scent of another wolf came to her. She wetted her lips and opened her mouth slightly as she tasted the air, recognizing the scent of the Swiftcurrent Valley wolves. She had yet to meet Akavir and Eshe personally- according to Ancelin, the man was somewhat stiff, but they seemed willing enough to accept the presence of another pack. 

The man who appeared in the distance had his head down, sniffing about; a faint smile on his lips that lightened Ameline's spirits. She slid down off the sentinel stone, and made her way toward him, ears perked but tail swinging softly from side to side. No doubt he would catch the scent of the markings she and Ancelin and the girls had strewn about the area- but she was always keen to put a face and a name to the scent, so he might know who it was that now lived here.