Swiftcurrent Creek gourmet pub grub

It surprised her a little that Tuwawi and Njal had chosen to den so close to the southwestern border. There was no line drawn around the territory, of course, but the ground out here was less traveled than the interior of the pack's claim. It kept her awake a little longer at night, nose poking out of the door and ears alert for anything out of the ordinary.

Which was exactly what she heard in the deepest black of night after a long day of fruitless hunting. She was snoozing gently near the entrance of the den when the whispering started - two voices, both urgent, edged with fear. Wolves. Intruding wolves. Very stupid intruding wolves.

Bazi held her breath and waited, every muscle tense. The maths put her at a clear disadvantage - two against one, and she was not strong enough to fight with any chance of winning. If she summoned the pack, would the unwelcome visitors kill her on the way out just to spite the Creek?

She would have to take her chances. Bazi crept silently out into the open... and then gave away her position by raising the alarm.