Swiftcurrent Creek Wat's it gun' -- wat's it gunna be

Clock had been hunting on the far West side of the pack's territory and had just caught a rather large hare when he heard the howling summons of an unfamiliar wolf. He noticed the pack ranks seemed to be dwindling some, and so felt duty-bound to investigate the inquiry. He hastily dug a hole and dropped the dead hare in, covering it crudely before setting off to the boundary at a brisk pace. When he arrived at the scene, it was to see Durnehviir already there and speaking to a dark, chocolate colored male wolf. Clock was aware Durnehviir had stepped down from her position as Alpha when the pups were born, but it made not the slightest difference to him. As far as he was concerned, she was still in charge. And he was glad for it, because she was a perfectly capable leader.

He chuffed to announce his presence to the two grown wolves, but settled himself on his haunches a good distance off to watch. He noticed two of the royal offspring were out as well, and although he knew Durnehviir had them under her maternal watch, he wanted to make sure they didn't try to wander off while she was addressing this stranger. He marveled at how big they were. He had met Wylla's new pup a few weeks ago and the little thing had been so surprisingly tiny! These pups, however, were much bigger. Gangly, yes. Awkward, yes. But bigger none-the-less.