Heron Lake Plateau killin' the game, bout to catch a body

She was relieved to hear that she wasn't the only one who'd killed a crab, and obviously, not the only one who noticed that they didn't taste right. "Something to do with our water not being salty," She said, explaining what Raven had diagnosed when she'd first told the alpha what they'd done. Of course, it could have been worse- say the crabs had thrived, they could have upset the lake's entire ecosystem and spawned some sort of devil-crab. It was probably for the best, in that case, that they hadn't survived. 

She smirked and flattened her ears at Tegan's joke, but he was right- there were lots of puppies in the pack now. "S'gonna be crazy this time next year when they're all our age," She commented. "I, personally, want to be on their good side when that happens." Nothing would've been worse than having the whole hoard of Redhawk puppies hate her when they became yearlings. It was a pre-emptive strike; get them to like her now and then raise them as her minions. 

She was a bit surprised and unsure how to act when he revealed that he was on his way toward becoming an ambassador for the pack. A wolf who called packmates bitches, used the word whackass every other word, and joked about sitting on pups. Their ambassador. Still- surely Raven knew him, and would be the judge of whether or not he could handle it...So she'd leave it in the alphas' hands. "That's pretty cool," She said. "Just make sure you make us look good, right?" she teased.