And her day had been going so well.
Examining a nearby pebbly beach for flotsam (as well as a few tasty mussels to crack open after seeing bears do it), Arayne had heard the long baritone howl echo across the tundra. Pausing in her endeavor to uncover a small trinket, a twine necklace with a white shell, she pricked her ears and furrowed her brow. Had that come in the direction of her caves? She had been using the painted caverns as a shelter for some time now, although seeing as she left left no scent marks, the only signs of her occupation would be her nest and possibly a few brown hairs. Grabbing the sandy necklace in her teeth, she scrambled up the beach's slopes, shifting into the mile-eating lope her kind possessed, flicking her head upward and letting the necklace slide down her neck so that the white shell bounced merrily against her chest as she moved. If there was somebody in her den, she supposed she would have to find out who it was. She had absolutely no problem with sharing the territory, as she didn't intend to use it forever, but she didn't want to let herself be pushed out of it either.
As she neared the caves, she lifted her nose to scent for the newcomers, but smelled only the ever-present odors of snow, lichen, and rock. The wind was blowing their scent away from her, she realized. She would need to tread carefully.
The rocky crags that housed the caves loomed above her. She kept to the shadows, trying to walk softly. There was very little cover around the caverns, and her reddish-brown pelt stood out lividly against the snow. Hugging the rocks, she slipped up to the mouth of the cave and peered inside carefully. Her eyes widened, and she rapidly withdrew. Sweet spirits, that red wolf was a monster. Arayne growled quietly in frustration. There went her blizzard shelter. She hated backing down, but there was no way she could see herself keeping her den. She backed up silently...
...Then cringed as a twig snapped under her paw. Shit.
"Speech"
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