Katja ghosted through the underbrush, a shadow flitting from place to place as she sought for her erstwhile ally, the tiger who resided here. There was little sign of him, however. Perhaps he had moved to a different territory? She didn't find signs of another having taken over the land so he was unlikely to have been chased out, and he had never called for her to assist him as she had promised she would if he were to have trouble, so he had chosen to leave on his own. A troubling thought, with the unstable situation she could certainly have used the threat of a tiger's teeth and claws to back up her reign. Still, perhaps he was simply off exploring another area and hadn't been back to refresh his scent markers yet.
There was a scent of another, though, a fresh scent of wolf, and the viking queen stalked it through the tiger's territory. But before she'd quite found the source, a howl rose above the brush. A howl for acceptance into a pack. Black-masked face went smooth in it's expressionlessness. Who was he calling for, in this land with no pack? She brushed her way into a clearing to see the male who had called. She cocked a brow at him. "Who do you be calling for?" she asked him, her voice polite enough if rather tinged with ice. "There do be two packs bordering this land, but no pack does claim it."
