Second week of August sometime.
Vague knowledge of a pack by the spring and an established friendly relationship with the pack further east was enough to send the mother into the fjord rather than through the ghastly woods, (where she previously would have chosen to travel on her journey south). It hadn't taken long for her son to begin to complain about his aching paws and just how hungry he was. Ever the sympathetic mother, Morganna's response was to simply laugh and remind the lad he still had at least another two weeks of this to put up with so he was far better off sucking it up and shutting his trap. A wry smirk offered to @Wraith to try and ease any discomfort he might have felt about her rather abrasive remark. They had to grow up if they were going to survive, and it would be a long journey if they constantly bowed to the needless demands of the youths in tow. A few aches and pains wouldn't kill them.
Besides, being on neutral ground wasn't enough to avoid an encounter with those who lived nearby, and his moaning was bound to draw attention. Finally, she allowed the children to rest, leaving them in Wraith's more than capable paws. She was going to scout forward and see which path was best to take, if any might bring them out at the base of the mountain or even by the falls, instead of spitting them out by the red-rocked creek. A familiar scent crossed her path and she smiled. It was fresh, he couldn't be too far away.