Swiftcurrent Creek worn out places, worn out faces

Razorback was meandering throughout the territory, getting to know it as any new member might. She followed the Creek, her own demeanor blank. Razorback knew they would not be here much longer, but she still felt the need to learn the place. She moved at a brisk trot, and when one of her packmates approached she paused, looking at her intently. An ear flicked uneasily as she noted the others not-at-all there expression, and then she noted the fading mark on her forehead. Inhaling, she noted that the scent was old blood. Whose?

Razorback stood her ground. She was not very amicable or amiable herself, but this was a packmate. Razorback had every desire to test the woman before her, although she did not. Her ears flattened and her head swung the opposite way, to show she was harmless at the time.