Swiftcurrent Creek dead grove

The male's front paw scooped discouragingly at the ground, spooning up clumps of cool dirt. Dovev's face was turned downward, and his eyes were distant as he drifted into thought. The pack was dwindling in number, and most of them would follow Scim north. That normally wouldn't have been an issue if the Creek wasn't facing three enemies- the dogs, Noctisardor, and Blackfeather Woods.

What about allies? he asked, but Dovev knew that was probably futile. There was no use on Duskfire expending any of their wolves to fight the Creek's battles, and they were losing alot of the ties that the Creek had with their glacier neighbors as they slowly drifted apart. He wondered if there would be enough parts to piece the pack back together once this all blew over.