Blackfeather Woods Won't Wake From This Dream

Each time the obsidian lupine raked his claws down the face of a tree, the paler creature's steps would slow and his bright orbs would watch. To him, it was a slightly strange way to mark one's territory, but understandable. It worked to show the threat one possessed, to keep lowly intruders away at the sake of keeping their life. The action was much better thought out than what those in his birth place did. His ears perked slightly to the dark one's words. The questions weren't complex, yet held something to them. Or, at least, it did to Kove.

"I've taken to it quite nicely," he answered, moving forward to scrape his own claws down a tree trunk. He felt the strips of bark beneath his claws, as well as the roughness of the tree on his pads. It wasn't a terrible feeling, he'd admit to that. "This specialty of the pack works well to draw others in, yet this forest pushes them away, doesn't it?" His head turned and his coppery orbs scanned the forest, finding it to be more peaceful than frightening; but everyone had different tastes and views.