Corinna had made it very clear that the training for the pack’s youth’s was to commence and soon – in another month Kisla would join the adult ranks as a Yearling, and while the thought thrilled her, the girl had never felt more unprepared in her life. Her hunting skills were pitiful – her tracking skills even more so. In fact, the young she-wolf was still feeling the uneasy burn of embarrassment from the episode at the den site just a few eve’s ago – the clumsy thrashing of her lithe figure in the water.. the bow of her muzzle beneath the surface and the rescue that had taken place from Naira before the she-wolf had betrayed them all and left.


Her slender limbs carried her to the Grove, each step carried with a light bounce that revealed how anxious she was to prove herself – a tender youth so naïve and young, she did not understand the spider’s web she was about to encroach upon. With her tail waving behind her like a proud banner (after all, her mother was leader to these lands, did that not mean a sense of entitlement ran in her blood?), the girl prowled the borders, her imagination stirring the belief that she belonged there – a veteran to such pack duties.


The scent of another stirred upon the warming breeze. Halting, one pale creamy paw held midair, Kisla’s mind reeled at what to do. What would her mother do? What would Marsh do? Or uncle Triell? Of course, the simple answer was to find the source and see what they were doing so close to packlands, and without any thought to her safety, the youth trailed toward the scent, her muzzle held high and her limbs stalking stiffly now with practiced dominance.


As the stranger came to view, Kisla’s young mind could not help but place awe to how pretty she was – the sleek pale fur that gleamed in the dim light.. the shine of her silver eyes. Pushing past this, KIsla offered a yip to announce her presence. “What are you doing so close to Swift River lands?” In her mind, that was exactly how she envisioned Triell would ask an unknown wolf so close to their homes.

Kisla was unaware of how the she-wolf was looking to her – the devious intent that was masked so carefully in her words was lost upon such a naïve and innocent girl, and at what appeared to be a compliment from such a pretty stranger, the girl could not help but feel flattered. Preening at such a compliment, the little wolf gave a roll of her shoulders, her eyes lighting up with confidence toward the other female. Of course, all thoughts of potential trespassing had fled from her now, and instead she was far more interested in learning more about this mysterious stranger with the most unique eyes she had ever seen.


“Do you explore often?” Instantly, the small guard that Kisla had disappeared, and the youthful wolf reclined to her haunches, both ears perked forward as she intently awaited to hear of the adventures such a mysterious and beautiful wolf had been on. “I’ve lived here my whole life,” she shared, scooting herself a bit closer to the she-wolf, an unspoken trust and invitation that the female should come closer so they could talk.


It seemed strange how quickly life would change. In only a matter of months, the girl would reach adulthood, and while she would still be recognized as a youth of the pack, she would be able to finally offer herself to the duties of pack life. Despite everything – her father’s coming and going, the coming and going of other pack members, and her near drowning experience, Kisla felt confident that she could be a loyal and headstrong member to her pack.

The feeling of anticipation had been festering in his gut for so long that it had mutated, grown into a kind of angry tension that kept him forever on edge. He had never experienced anything like it. So in tune with his family, with his environment, Marsh Barrew had always taken such things for granted, and to be so disquieted... it made him uncomfortable.

Fortunately, he had been able to keep his general uneasiness from his kin, unwilling to concern them with superstition and ill feelings. It wasn't his job, and it didn't help anyone. Besides, he had no viable way of sharing his worries, and though the pack had accepted his silence, for which he was eternally grateful, it did not mean that he was willing to brave wrapping his tongue in knots and making a fool of himself. A foolish Second was not something that Swift River needed. If Marsh was not the wolf Corinna wanted, she would have made it clear. Her acceptance of him had been all he needed for a long time now.

He would do anything for her without hesitation.

The sound of voices caught the beast's attention. Simply performing the usual daily rounds, he could afford a distraction. Ears turned towards the sounds, he stood for a moment, accustomed to picking out familiar voices. Kisla's sweet tone was instantly noted, and he waited for a reply, expecting the tones of a wolf he knew... but his gut clenched when that did not happen.

Usually, Marsh did not encroach on others' conversations, being so unable and unwilling to participate. But this was different. Immediately he felt on edge, something in his gut heavy and foreboding but ignored. They were well within Swift River territory, so if the unknown wolf was little more than a trespasser, Kisla was not well suited to deal with it. If the situation was more innocent... well, Kisla was still not suited. If necessary, Corinna could be summoned.

Without further hesitation, the copper wolf strode forwards, making no secret of his approach. The sound of the unknown wolf - a young female from the voice, and the hints of scent that he was beginning to pick up - drew him closer, and she had finished speaking just moments before he made his appearance, ragged and beastly and automatically distrustful. He huffed to announce himself, glancing at the child under his protection. Marsh made his way to Kisla, making his role in the situation more than clear; touching his nose to the girl's cheek in greeting and support, he stood beside her, tail held high.

Finally, his steel gaze turned to the pale trespasser before them, sat neatly on the ground with barely a concern. He did not like the look in her eyes or the air on her coat. She smelt of a pack he was familiar with, a pack he was not worried by, but that was not enough to dissuade the dark feeling in his chest. Instead he stood, silent, allowing Kisla to continue the conversation if she desired, trusting that the girl would let him know if this was not an innocent meeting. He had no qualms with running out a trespasser, no qualms at all.

Like a meek mouse to a lion, Kisla looked to the beautiful she-wolf with awe in her naïve gaze as the lady described the world to her. How could a forest not be the same? At the mention of brother’s, the pale tawny girl shrugged her lithe shoulders, a small smile playing to her lips. “I have two brothers,” she confided with a hint of pride in her tone. Rihael and Fenru were her best friends, and she adored them dearly.


Kisla did not understand what the stranger meant – her mind was innocent, and the first notion was that her brother would have enjoyed meeting a new wolf, or, even telling his tales of adventurous travel to the inexperienced pack wolf. “Where is your brother now?” Of course, even after the question slipped past her lips the she-wolf did not question that it might have stirred offense to the female, or sadness to his absence.


Before she could question more of the alluring stranger, the presence of the dutiful Second was noted. Emerging from the foliage like a guardian angel, Marsh swept to her side and Kisla, unaware of his concern or hesitance, practically beamed at the large male. Lifting herself to a stand, the pale female touched her nose to Marsh’s chin in return before her muzzle rounded to their visitor. “Marsh! This is my new friend..” There was a blatant pause as Kisla blinked to the other wolf, her slender figure neatly placed between both adults. “I.. I’m sorry, what’s your name?” She had forgotten to ask!

Kisla's sweet greeting was registered, but no more than that. The stranger had him fully on edge, and as much as he loved the young Tainn, he did not trust her judgement. Innocent, naive, all these things suited the child perfectly, and he had feared that it would get her into trouble.

Well, she wasn't getting into trouble on his watch.

Friend, said Kisla, and his ears went back in distaste. Well, so be it, but it would take more than the approval of a foolish yearling to persuade Marsh of that. Though she held herself well enough, the stranger set off an uneasiness in his gut that he could not sway, and he was too tuned-in to his instincts to ignore that. Calling Corinna was the way forward. He was preparing to do just that when the stranger's name was offered, and she moved.

Instantly, his eyes narrowed, and he watched the upstart move towards Kisla with a fire in his chest.

Her words went over his head, but her tone did not, and the moment her face was out of Kisla's sight, Marsh saw the transformation. A furious, dangerous growl bubbled in his throat, his tail curling up higher, his lips pulling back to reveal veteran teeth. With horror, he watched as she groomed his ward, using her as bait and protection. He could not risk attacking her with Kisla stood between them, and, no doubt, the child was totally oblivious.

The heavy growl ripping from him with obvious intent, he turned on his heel, marching about the back of Kisla to confront this hateful trespasser. He would not allow Kisla to be used as a shield for sick games. With any luck, Kisla would trust his instinct over her own, over the influence of a perfect stranger, but if she did not - and that disgusting excuse of a bitch did not take the hint that this was not something she was going to win - then Marsh would more than make good on that promise to run her out.

Kisla was far too entranced with the stories of her new friend to truly notice any disgruntlement from Marsh – a picture was worth a thousand words, yet not to the youth who had not taken a moment to study his features and attempt to interpret his silent thoughts. Marsh never spoke with his tongue, but the little female knew he could be quite vicious with his teeth, for she had seen him in action in the pack hunts.


Valkyrja’s paw smoothed down her back, and like an aching kitten for attention, the tawny female bent to her will, casting a small smile up to the she-wolf, though never once noticing anything but friendliness in her eyes. Before long she was being groomed, and only when she cast a pleased look to Marsh did she notice his distaste.. and what seemed to be rage.


Blinking, the naïve she-wolf stilled in her confusion, and both ears preened forward in alarm as his lips pulled back to reveal those deadly fangs she had witnessed in action. For a moment, a wave of protectiveness surged through her for her new friend – surely Marsh would not hurt such a beautiful wolf?! Then, the feeling of unease crept through her chest with the notion that something was wrong as the Second’s growl reverberated through the cool spring air. “Marsh,” she whispered, her tone uncertain and the fear ebbing in her vocals as she felt her figure stiffen considerably. At her adult size, she was still frail – lissome and slender, while her muscles had only been used for play rather than fight. Casting the male a horrified glance with her emerald eyes, it was only then that the female made the attempt to raise herself and creep away from the she-wolf who was trespassing on their lands.