Things seemed... tense, and honestly, Ozark didn't get it.
Well, she did get it. I mean, she wasnt an idiot. Spring had sprung. Birds and the bees and all that. The melting of snow and coming of warmth meant a new generation of wolves to be had. She just didn't know why it put so many hairs on end. Was keeping it together that difficult?
Ozark had entered her first year along her sister at the cusp of winter. Born along the coast during the cold winds off the icy seas. They were badass but no man was getting any ass, not this go around. Not from anyone under Ozark's watch, if she had any say about it.
The little harpy had been told not to mark the borders, but she still very much so walked them- watched them, should any strange male come a'knocking. In fact, as she stomped about, the lass was just looking for a fight.