Blackfeather Woods damn the torpedoes!

The scent of one had been bothersome, the scent of two became troublesome and when the scent of even more flooded her system it was time action had to be taken. Caches had been ripped apart as the ravenous grubby-handed creatures ate to their content before they moved on to another one. By the time the Morta managed to track them down to their latest raid, Blackfeather's caches were rather nonexistence. Such would be obvious by the way the creatures lounged with heavy bellies of food that they had stole from the mouth of the wolves.

She was a spiky shadow in the dark of the woods, fur prickled with aggression as her tail curled in a rare show of aggression. Jakoul was desperate to take care of this problem as swiftly as possible but she was one set of teeth against a small hoard of angry hands accompanied by teeth.

Her head was thrown back as she released a short call with a clear message. Any bodies able to defend were needed. Now.