Blackfoot Forest Broken Drum

Pallas' ears strained as she thought she heard a concealed snarl; she jerked her head upright and her eyes fell on an agouti female that had pulled forth from the mainland. Pallas studied this female, who seemed just as exhausted as she: though something about the way she carried herself suggested it was a different kind of fatigue. Pallas thought she looked defeated, though she did not articulate it. Instead she reined in her tongue, keeping her deportment somewhat neutral despite the less than favorable greeting she had received. If it was one thing the Stormthorn had learned since her introduction into the Teekon it was that diplomacy was sometimes more deadly than teeth; and in many cases, it had saved her from an early execution.

She did not pause or even consider the wolf's flat inquiry: instead, the answer was shoved forth with the sharp abruptness of raw honesty. "Food." It was a transparent reply, and one look at her plaintive gaze showed Pallas was anything but a liar. "You in charge?"