Borlla had taken to busying herself around the borders now, marking them at least twice a day. She felt acutely aware of all the lone shadows floating about the eastern lands now, unable to find their way over the mountain, perhaps. They were stranded and the packs had a better chance of filling their mouths than the lone wolves did of filling theirs. She didn't want to issue a welcome call to all those around that this was free land, that they were wolves that cared to share their home with the masses. She wanted the Creek to reek of the Glen wolves and hopefully send the loners scattering. No, she didn't trust them much. Skinny, empty-eyed creatures looking for a warm den and a full belly until the snow melted and then what? They obviously didn't understand the reality. The reality that they were just as hungry as those that had no claim to anything. Borlla didn't like weakness.

She'd been rather harsh to James when he'd come to their borders. He'd been a bit of a practice run for her. Her aggression had served her well, honestly, in that encounter. However, with such blind tactics, what chance did she really have of sorting the true from the false? Coincidence drove her life. Certainly any lone wolf would want a warm den and a full belly, but what if they wanted a family as well? Someone to serve. And by blindly snarling at all that called at their borders, she was risking sending away a perfectly good creature. A wolf that might enlighten her children, feed their hunger, serve their family. As another call sounded from the borders, Borlla was on the move again. Her pace was even, if not a bit slow, as she mulled over her plan of action. But the wolf she found seemed to do much of the work for her. Honeyed eyes descended upon a female already upon her back, beautifully submitted.

The woman sputtered, resisting a laugh as she stood on her side of the border, eyeing the female who now laid a few feet away from her. Aggression was pointless in this case. The woman was already as low as she could be, and snarling would likely only drive her away before Borlla could ask a word. <b style="color:#32527a">"Get up, you're going to make yourself sick, buried in the snow like that." The woman snorted, taking a step forward, toeing the border. <b style="color:#32527a">

The girl did as she was told. Very obedient. Borlla smirked as she was on her paws, though still kept her gaze averted. She was given a thank you, though Borlla wasn't sure what she'd done to deserve that. And without provocation or instruction, the nameless stranger went right into her reason for being here. As it it weren't obvious enough, but it saved the winter-worn woman the effort of speaking, most likely in some frustrated or snarky manner. The girl didn't want to waste time or energy and Borlla appreciated that. Probably just as much as she appreciated the girl's likely honesty.

When the girl had finished speaking, Borlla crossed the border to stand before the girl, sitting back on her haunches with a slightly haughty look upon her face. <b style="color:#32527a">"Well that's all good and dandy, but what benefit are you bringing to Magnolia Glen, Jade?" It was one thing to bring forth promises of permanence, but Borlla wished to see the worth in others. What could they do to benefit her, her pack, her family? She showed no aggression towards the girl, thankfully for the girl, but Borlla would not be won over so easily. Though she might not have much weight in the decision making department as ti stood right now, she would do the hard work for her mate so that, when he arrived, she could simply inform him of the straight details...As she interpreted them, of course. They all had enough on their plates, and after her incident, it was the least she could do for her own weather-weary hubby. <b style="color:#32527a">

In time, the familiar shadow of Phineas was beside her and she found great comfort in his presence. Perhaps at her core, she found herself more frustrated at all these strangers for putting her mate out. There were far more important matters to tend to, matters that didn't involve answering the begging cries of every stranger that collapsed upon their borders, their stomach grumblings drowning out any words that came from their parched jaws. This woman was being suitably submissive though, perhaps lightening the load somehow. He offered no words, and so Borlla continued, honeyed eyes traveling over the wolf, trying to pick out parts of her that might back up her claims to usefulness. It seemed her tail was missing. Borlla hadn't noticed that before, and her ears flipped back. Noting this, she struck out any potential as a hunter, for certainly her balance would be affected.

But the woman mentioned nothing about hunting, only scouting and scavenging. And the potential to be taught. Borlla scoffed, <b style="color:#32527a">"We hardly have the time to teach you how to be useful." Huffing, she fell into a thoughtful silence. A scavenger could be helpful, so long as she kept her paws out of the way of other packs, equally hungry mouths that wouldn't appreciate having food taken from anywhere near their borders. <b style="color:#32527a">"Perhaps a scavenger would be useful." Her eyes flicked upwards towards the face of her mate, wondering what he could be thinking about this. There was really little honor in eating up scraps, but there was little honor in starving to death either. <b style="color:#32527a">