Haunted Wood pack your things up, honey

Urine sprinkled onto the peeling bark of one tree, the act of defiance completely intentional. This was not Lusa and her cohort's wood, nor would it ever be, according to the inky spider of the Spire. Though the territory was a decent clip away from the Sawtooth's mountain, it boiled down to a personal note, rather than location. The dark wolf would never cease hunting them. 

Claws raked into the damp soil beneath the heavily wooded area, kicking debris in all directions without remorse or consequence. One shoulder brushed into the solid stalk of an oak, the lichen and other mossy parasites clinging to guard hairs and leaving several in the newly-appointed Delta's wake. Fire-like eyes danced dangerously from one bit of shadow to the next, completely in-tuned with surroundings and the faint stir of approaching adversaries in the dim silence. 

There had been an effort to claim their stake here and the spider sought to rip it all back down.