A few parched looking Solomon's Seal were growing in the spot where she knew the spring be. Their leaves drooped pitifully, missing the water and warmth that had sustained them all spring and into early summer. It was autumn now, and far too late in the year for the water to be flowing. With the nights beginning to frost, soon even the plant would wilt and blow away. A slight dip in the earth and a few smooth stones would be all that remain. It would be featureless, only a wolf that had seen it would remember. Iopah looked down into the depression, recalling the trickle of water and biting cold. She touched her nose to the plant, already missing the cold-water spring.
She exhaled softly and lifted her head to look farther into the thicket. So far this autumn was milder than last, but her winter coat was already coming in thick, giving her a sturdy appearance. Under the cream and gray pelt her muscles were long and full, all her wounds nothing but old scars. She was ready for what was coming. With a last look at the silent spring she headed west.
A thick carpet of fallen leaves muffled her slow jog. For a few minutes there was nothing but the soft swish of her limbs. By random chance her path led her by a freshly dug wolverine den. The dark gaping entrance was camouflaged by the leaves, but they did nothing to mask the scent. Her nose and tail went up instantly, pale feet planted in the vibrant leaf litter. Lips pulled back in a sneer, she could smell it. The pups were all old enough that a wolverine wouldn't drag them away, but they were still thieves. Her eyes were narrowed in anger and she was still searching for the den itself when she called out. It was a loud harsh sound, part bark and part growl. She was willing to pull the wolverine from it's den alone, but why should she have all the fun? Surely there was more than enough to share.