Sleepy Fox Hollow As the crow flies.

Wylla was no medic or healer, but she did have a lot of opinions, which was surely the same thing. The Pionier was headed back to the pack's heartland from border patrol, and everything about her screamed exhaustion, from the downturn of her sharp muzzle to the weighted drag of her paws. She wanted nothing more than to curl up in the roots of a tree at the edge of the pack's rendezvous and sleep for hours. She'd done a lot of patrolling when she led Grimnismal, but those days were far behind her, and that territory was far smaller.

Sleep was the only thing on her agenda until she spotted Mou across the way. It took a second to place him, but when Wylla recalled that he was that over-serious weirdo who'd been staring into the void through a crack in the wall, glee was quick to follow. Not because she particularly liked Mou—she thought he was a freak—but that was exactly the point. Teasing Mahler was getting old, and Takiyok and Maegi were both poor sports for that sort of thing. Mou, on the other hand, was a perfect target.

So she wasted no time heading toward him, calling out a chipper, I'm surprised you don't melt in the sunlight! Thought maybe you were a vampire or some shit. Whatever hard feelings she'd caused by challenging his authority at their last meeting were forgotten, at least on her end—mostly because she now outranked him, as she felt was proper.