Phoenix Maplewood and way down we go

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granted, their numbers were too few to properly secure the maplewood, not anymore. nor were there numbers large enough to be constantly hunting within it; and thus the thick scents that permeated the wood could have gone unnoticed for longer than the sterling leader would have liked. soft steps took her between the familiar trees, tracking all the intermingled scents back to where they were the strongest. 

perhaps it was the fierce will for something to burn for that shot like adrenaline through her veins, perhaps sheer territorial nature, that had her seek out the hornet's nest instead of attempting to be diplomatic about the situation. it was what had her dare stride nearer and nearer the cluster of scent - the musky scent of honey and milk and pups among them - with tail held high and gaze molten. she called, a single, clipped note that burst through the trees, grating against the stillness.