Big Salmon Lake the queens justice

There was no immediate sign of blood in the water or the stench of decay, yet on he carried. His nose worked tirelessly as he padded along the lake's edge, always testing, despite the uncomfortable prick between his peppered shoulders. Eyes were upon him, from somewhere among the mist.

But who?

He paused for a moment, shlifting enough to glance all around him as ears swivelled atop his crown, before he lifted a charcoal-dipped forelimb so that he may continue. Muscles tightened, however, at the announcement of another's presence, rooting him to the spot.

Guard hairs stood erect along his dorsal and he rumbed a quiet demand to the raven strangers who materialised through the haze: stay back. Pastel gaze flit between them, two identical faces that glared his way, but only one spoke out loud. "No," he answered simply, finding himself curious to know who might've delivered such information to this she-wolf, "but an enemy shared that there was a body here, one of a past comrade. I came to see for myself."

Somehow, he felt it in his best interest to be honest with his intentions there, at least until he could decipher who they were.