The Haunted and The Hunted

Gwen was on patrol on the plains instead of the moor for the first time since her pups had been born. She was somewhat reluctant to be so far from them, but they only had a limited number of adult wolves in the pack to do patrols and it was only fair for her to take her share of plains patrols now that the pups were older and weren't nursing anymore. She'd given them permission to explore the moor on their own while she was gone, as long as they stayed within the wall and didn't venture over to the plains alone yet, but she wasn't entirely certain that a couple of them were entirely trustworthy quite yet so she was more than a little worried her whole patrol.

So when she scented a stranger crossing the border, she was immediately put not only on her guard, but in full protective mother mode, her hackles up and a growl already rumbling in her chest. She traced the scent further into the lands. She was moving fast, but leopard-silent like she was on a hunt so she could try to come upon the intruder unaware. When the scent became hot enough that she knew the stranger could only be a short distance ahead, hidden by the long-growing late spring grass, she swung wide to be certain that the faint breeze would not carry her scent to the intruder if it picked up at all. She dropped into a crouch and slowly crept forward.

Her crystalline eyes narrowed as she came close enough to finally begin to see who had crossed their border. A thin, grimy-looking, ill-kempt young female. Her first instinct was mistrust - surely such an unsavory looking wolf was only going to be trouble. But she shook her head, chiding herself for such an unwarrranted assumption. The girl was jumpy and nervous - as she should be, trespassing in a pack's lands - but the nervousness and fear-stink seemed to be more ingrained than that. A habit, a chronic stress, not a new thing. What was she running from?

Her swift appraisal completed, Gwen stood from her crouch and stepped out of hiding. "Stop where you are," she told the girl immediately. Her tone was firm, but could come across to a stranger as surprisingly friendly considering the circumstances. Matter-of-fact, rather than outright threatening. "You are trespassing on Celestial lands, girl."