Chan stalked the ridges of the valley, watching over the Cove from above. Aleister had fallen ill, to the point he was physically unable to carry the demands of leadership. Much hadn't seemed to change, though, except that the man in question was no longer witnessed stalking among the forests, den-bound instead. The pack continued to chug along smoothly, everyone aware of what was needed from them and not shy about providing. Maybe he'd be lucky, and it would all just stay the same until their alpha healed.
Movement from the South caught his eye, and he turned his head to look upon a herd of deer, tentative and tightly packed together as they picked their way through the forest. It wasn't unheard of for the ungulates to come through and attempt to settle around the lake, but they never made it up in such a large group before. They must've ventured the Heights, and at least one of them had decided they wanted to explore the mountain rather than scale back down to the opposing woodlands, drawing the others with them. Bad move.
Chan tipped back his head, and howled. He called to the wolves below, alerting them of the prey waltzing directly into their territory. The mass of deer froze together and huddled, unnerved but also unknowing how to escape the threat. This would be easy pickings for the wolves of the Cove. Chan took off, leaving the bluffs and descending into the valley's forests. His ears pressed forward, he listened for communication from others, for any kind of sign that he wasn't alone in this effort. Even if the prey was absolutely dumbstruck, he'd be no match without help.