State of the Nation

Damira looked up at Deimos, mismatched eyes curious and watchful, her brows furrowed slightly at his question. She knew a little about the world beyond Elysium's borders, and had only really ventured out to watch the pack claim dispute with her family. She'd learned a lot that day though, hadn't had much interest in the fight itself, but watching everyone interact - or more interestingly not interact- had given Damira a lot to think about.

"The Hallows are our allies." Was the easiest response, the quickest that came to mind. Avacyn had gone to a meeting there a while back, so the evidence was pretty plain to see. "The pack on the mountain haven't made any trouble for us. I don't know about the pack to the north, sometimes the wind blows and it reeks of death." He nose wrinkled. And it wasn't the usual smell of a fresh kill, scents that as a wolf she naturally found quite tolerable. But it was the rot and the decay she did not like, natural instincts kicking in to ensure wolves did not consume something that could make them sick.