Slippery Slope

Where was Mercy? He hadn't seen her for a while - hell, the scent at her den was stale; he went and checked it out. It had been several days since he had heard or scented her. Was she hiding? If so, from what? Surely she was not one to hide. She was a fighter, and one he admired. Hiding was not in her forte... and neither was sneaking around. Lounging high on one of the knolls near the border, the familiar scent that was Mercy drifted into his nose. Unlike the scents over the past week, this one was fresh - she was right.... near... him. Her stood ubruptly, eyes narrowing as he sought her familiar white form. He saw nothing, but his nose didn't fool him. Even if there was... an odd scent attached to it.

A few seconds later, he spotted her. She just slipped over the border and was inside lands, and Lykos stared down at the oblivious female. "Mercy!" he called out, bounding down the knoll that he had rested on. The tall male paused a few feet away from his mentor, nostrils flaring as he sniffed. "Where have you been? Who's that I smell on you?" he asked, head tipping, eyes narrowing slightly in contemplation. A male, he could tell. Packless, also. A mate? A friend? If either, why did she not take the male into the pack?

"SPEAK"