Nearby she could smell the presence of a pack. Well, that was an understatement. The land on the other side of the creek absolutely <i>reeked</i> of that combination wolf-and-territory scent that came from the formation of a pack. Her mossy eyes remained watchful on the packlands as she drank, for the pale-colored she-wolf was of great size and stature, but even she wouldn't want to engage a border patrol. Remy was resistant to authority by her own stubborn nature, but she was no fool. A pack she would find on her own time, later, but the this beautiful afternoon was just begging to be enjoyed, stress-free. The pale wolf sprawled out in the sunlight, which was a comical sight indeed - she was no sylph, but rather a warrior-bodied girl - but if anyone were to say anything she'd turn her violent temper on them.
One white paw draped over the creek's edge, a dark claw creating a consistant blockage in the creek's gentle flow. Her pale eyes watched the water adapt, while her red ears twitched, in case anyone came to interrupt her sunbathing time.