Ankyra Sound She sells sea shells

set for the morning of april 6th.

Shock wasted no time getting from one place to the next, and she soon found herself on a different pack's borders. She was agitated. Not because she was angry, but because she needed more. Her body (and now her mind) yearned for it. One taste had been enough to send her into a spiral of wanting more and more and more. She was like a kid in a candy store... or maybe a better analogy was a hormonal teenager in a brothel.

The white wolf had barely slept last night, getting only short bursts of sleep between waking with intense desire. She knew she needed the rest, but her body wasn't having it. When she awoke in the wee hours of the morning, her nose had led her here, and she howled for anybody nearby who was looking to do the horizontal tango.

she had awoken before dawn, moving along the strand in search of the odd creatures that seemed to surface in the night. there were other thoughts on her mind, chiefly, the matter of rank. she had not shed her solitude to linger at the bottom of the rank table - at least, not for long. those thoughts were disrupted by an odd call from the outer territories. the voice was that of a stranger, and her limbs carried her quickly to intercept. 

the scent of heat ignited something territorial, and not merely for the land Rusalka claimed. salt-stiffened nape prickled and auds slicked back as the woman came into view, and she voiced her question in the form of a low growl. what did she want from them, why had she come?

Instead of a much wanted fuckbuddy, Shock was greeted by a rather territorial looking female. That just wouldn't do. She wasted no time turning herself around and fleeing. Conflict wasn't what she sought right now, though maybe another time she might have. Her lip curled in mild annoyance, but she would get out of here unscathed so long as she wasn't chased and caught. Then again, why would anybody (besides a male) chase her now? She was no threat to this pack so long as she was running away from it.

the woman turns and flees, abruptly, and the woman's simmering aggression fades as she watches her go. she's surprised at the swiftness of her retreat, and while something entices her to pursue, she remains still as she watches the retreating form. when the woman becomes small in the distance, she turns and continues an impromtu patrol of the border. the woman's scent is prominent, however, and leaves a clear trail away from their borders should any male come looking.