Blacktail Deer Plateau [j] turn my swag on

She had been travelling for a long time; since last she had seen Skoll, and that other wolf he had been with. They had had their eyes set on a plateau overlooking the asscrack of the Seahawk mountains, but suddenly it had been only her and her sullen father remaining. Never having been particularly interested in his brokenhearted madness, Roanoke had took to her feet as fast as she coild, leaving behind the broken, mourning wolf once again. Deep in her heart she harboured the same feelings—Liesl had abandoned all of them, and in a slow trickle, Umbriel and then Suttree and then Cormac had followed—but she had located her wayward dam in the far northern tundra of Alaska.

She hadn't remained there either. Wanderlust had beckoned her, and Roanoke had ghosted away in the dead of night. The lack of remorse was just as evident now as then; she did not carry the banner of a wolf who had lost, but rather, one who had gained. For Roanoke was exceedingly vain, that much could be said of her. She had been the best of her siblings, yes, and the only one with Skoll's fierce temperament... But along the way she had collected her own brand of pride, which exceeded even his. But pride could not feed her, and Roanoke was much too lazy to live on her own forever; she liked being able to feed from caches, and not dirty her pretty little coat, which she wore like a crown.

So when she came across a plateau, ringed by a river, much like the one she had left behind, Roanoke wasted no time in sauntering toward it. Her swagger was insufferable, her head lifted with a superbia unremitting even as she howled for the landowner's presence. It would be instantly clear her opinion of herself was high, and this Alpha would be hard-pressed to force any of that snootyness out of her.