Redhawk Caldera god karen, you can't just ask people why they're white

Jaws caught sight of his elusive gray jay an hour ago as it skirted through the trees. The bird had been scarce the past few nights and Jaws was still not sure why. Perhaps it was beginning to lose its interest in chasing him and was going back to acting like a normal bird. Unconcerned, Jaws continued on his way, checking the cache's and exploring his new home.

With his face turned into the wind, the coywolf easily caught the scent of wolf and blood. He was curious, but unalarmed. Never having been one to jump to the worst conclusions, he figured one of his packmates had made a kill. As it was on his route anyway, the coywolf walked along, soon spotting the black female he had first seen at the pack gathering.

Jaws approached and greeted her with a quirked brow, noting the blood flecked on her white marking, and offered a roguish grin. "You must have been quite busy."