Sawtooth Spire just what i had in mind

When Ainhoa pointed at the stack of stones, Q gave it a cursory glance. She almost insisted they check it out again but her companion was already on the move, so the youthful Thrall sprang to join her. Perhaps it was overly familiar for their brief acquaintance, though she bumped one of her speckled shoulders companionably against the other wolf's as they began their trek through the territory.

It wasn't long at all before the pair stumbled across a small cave. It was pretty unremarkable, as far as they went, though an intrigued Quell thrust her nose inside and sniffed. The air was cold, though she swore she smelled the stale scent of wolves. She withdrew to peer over at Ainhoa before her pale lavender gaze swept the area around the den's mouth. Even years later, there were still signs of a struggle, including flecks of blood on some rocks, black and practically odorless after all this time.

"Huh," Q remarked, unaware of the drama that had unfolded here once upon a time, "think we should tell, um, what's-her-face? @Wylla? About this?" Her father had finally mentioned his fellow Eisen's name and condition during the grand tour. Her eyes roved Ainhoa's face before she pointed her snout at the den again. "I mean, if the pack just relocated, she's gotta be on the market for one of these, right?"