Bearclaw Valley politics

i know we already have a thread up but maybe @Ancelin ?

tvar moved slowly along the border shared with kvarsheim, spurred by nothing other than simple curiosity—and the need to get out and stretch his legs.

ancelin’s earlier remarks lingered in his mind: the invitation to merge had been extended—(and declined). why? he had refrained from asking outright. he somewhat regretted it now.

the sharp chill of the wind brushed against his fur as he neared the shared boundary, the mingled scents of the two packs heavy in the air. his sharp gaze scanned the horizon, taking in the landscape and noting the faint trails of movement along the edge of kvarsheim’s territory. though the borders were marked, they were sparse compared to the heavily patrolled lines of bearclaw valley.

while he had no intention of crossing into their territory uninvited, there was nothing wrong with a closer look—if only to satisfy his curiosity. he moved parallel to the border, close enough to peer in but far enough away that he didn't intrude.

were they too proud? too self-sufficient?

the scent markers were there, but they weren’t fresh or consistent. a small huff escaped his lips, visible in the cold morning air.  the sparse markings, the lack of heavy patrols, the faint scent of multiple wolves that carried a thinness to it, like it had been stretched too far over too much ground.  a pack this size was vulnerable, especially with winter gripping the land. food would be scarce, and competition—be it from other wolves or scavengers—would be fierce.

if kvarsheim was faltering, it wasn’t his place to interfere—unless, of course, their desperation brought trouble to bearclaw’s borders. that was a problem he wouldn’t tolerate.