Swiftcurrent Creek Every single word builds up to this moment.

Just as she settled to relax, another's voice drew her from focusing on the distant thrum of their territory's namesake. Twitching a tall lobe in the direction of a pack-mate's tone, Durnehviir opened her pale eyes to look upon a dark-furred, mottled figure. Wylla, was her initial thought to accompany the anxious flurry of her heart, and she lifted her head to get a better look. Upon closer scrutiny, she found this wolf to be significantly larger and distinctly more masculine, and was swift to recognise him as Rysk.

She'd seen very little of him since his recruitment, though was relieved to see that he'd remained among their ranks. Pulling herself onto her paws, the russet Alphess beckoned her comrade closer with a friendly swish of her tail. "Hey," she called gently, a thin smile tugging the corners of her mouth upward.

His company was welcome, and she was happy to engage him in conversation for a while before her presence was required elsewhere. Excusing herself, the russet Alpha returned to her den to tend to her whelps.