Permafrost Hollows you cannot swallow a life that large

faeryn's comment brings a soft smile to his lips as they continue along the border, wintersbane mindful of his long strides. i have, he affirms, salmon pink tongue drawing across his lips. doesn't mean i'm going to be right though. he acknowledges with a casual rise and fall of his shoulders. and there's always the possibility that packs will begin to flock to the taiga to escape overpopulation. which would only mean that the taiga would eventually become as overpopulated as the rest of the wilds. there was only so many places they could run before it all became overpopulated and short of leaving the wilds all together it was just a possibility the vartija would have to face. only time would tell if they'd get off the ground, if they'd withstand what the wilds and other packs had to throw their way.

nothing's certain, if there was one thing that wintersbane's learned in his life it was that. all we can do is prepare to the best of our abilities. but right now his priorities was ensuring the current members of the vartija were doing well, border marking, cache building and recruiting. founding a pack was far from easy and it gave him a new merit of respect for the wolves that founded all the packs in the wilds he'd taken advantage of. it was easy to lead a pre-established pack but building something from the ground was a true test of leadership and devotion of the wolves that followed and aided in it.