Swiftcurrent Creek dead grove

He felt, rather than heard, the Alpha come up behind him and bump Dovev's scapular against his own. Responding with a low-tilted wag of his tail, the white wolf was surprised to see Scim. Things were getting a little rowdy around the Creek, and he could imagine the alpha being quite stressed and overworked.

There had always been a plan for Scimitar to move the pack somewhere else and escape the hellstorm brewing around their home. The topic had been breached several times during pack meetings, and every time Dovev felt a well of ire that this land might be taken away from him. It wasn't that the arctic brute lacked respect for his superior. The tawny male was obviously injured- torn ear, scars, and bruises, something Dovev was already eagerly searching his revenge for. For all of the things Dovev could care less about, his loyalty was profoundly tied to this river-plain. He would defend it at all costs.

How goes it? His silver pools glanced at the male with the open-ended question, moving slightly away to give Scimitar some space. Far off, he could hear the odd call of a crow, but for now their spot by the creek was disturbed only by the murmur of wind.