An outcropping of rock low on the mountain served as my perch as I relaxed away a mild autumn morning. It gave me a good vantage point, looking out across the sloping foothills of the southeastern edge of the realm of Spirane. Things were going well within the pack since Kalseru and I had agreed to lead the pack together. Since his visit, I had heard nothing further from Arturio, but we were always wary of what was going on to the south so that we would not be caught unawares. New had come to me from our soon-to-be Boneknapper that Melee had survived her illness and was well on her way to recovering completely. Tyrion, too, was extremely close to achieving his goal of becoming our Razorwhip; soon my sister and I would meet with him to discover what he had learned of the changing leaderships across Moladion. And if all of that wasn't enough to put me in a comfortable state, I also had my mate Vortigern's unending support to make my very existence easier. My mate. The notion still gave me butterflies. Not for the first time the question crossed my mind - were we expected to produce an heir in the coming months? Were we ready for that? Was I ready for that?

Seeking a distraction from such thoughts, the movement of a wolf traveling south caught my eye. From such a distance I couldn't make out much. But as my gaze drifted off to the left, I noticed another wolf following in much the same path. Coincidence? Maybe. Regardless, I stood and stretched, turning away and loping down the mountainside to get a closer look. My curiosity was piqued. Really it could have been any wolves traveling south for any reason, the second might not be following the first, but maybe the first wasn't aware of the second - really I was just using their presence as an excuse to divert my thoughts from what my future with Vortigern held.

Crossing out of Spirane, I slowed to a jog and lowered my nose to the ground, my head sweeping back and forth in search of the freshest scent trail through the area. The first wolf was gone, out of sight, but I might still be able to encounter the second. Suddenly I came up the scent I was searching for and I stopped, inhaling deeply. Female, with traces of pine - perhaps from Enocra - and sedge grass - likely from the tundra. If I had not snuffled deeper into the grass, I likely would have thought it a newcomer to these lands. But a longer sniff revealed another scent weaved within the others, that of moist soil and stagnant water. Iromar.

My head shot up and I looked south, but the wolf was long gone. Turning to the north, my fire-rimmed mahogany eyes searched the landscape. Was the wolf trailing her from Iromar as well? From what I had learned from Arturio, the intentions of the moorland pack wolves were disingenuous at best. I stepped away from the trail, making a bit of an arc further from Spirane and then curving to head back towards home, hoping that when I crossed back over the scent trail I might encounter the secondary wolf.

As luck would have it my timing was sublime. I spotted the younger male a few moments before I crossed his path - his striking coat catching my eye at once. My nostrils flared, trying to catch a whiff of his scent, trying to discern if there was any trace of swamp threaded into his cologne. I couldn't be sure, but I called out to him anyways. If I could keep another wolf from being sucked into whatever den of immorality Iromar had become, I would. "Hello," I said, my tail lifted even with my back, "Could I perhaps enlist your assistance with something?" Alright so maybe I didn't really have the most concrete plan to keep him from continuing to follow the path of the Iromarian woman, but I would do my best.