A call filled the air, rising from the border of the rock garden and drawing Katja's presence as a flame draws the moth. She'd been keeping herself busy on patrols mostly, duties that required little real thought so much as keen senses and muscle memory. On patrol she could think, plan for the coming festival, on drawing the pack closer together, on training. Her thoughts had drifted along darker paths this day, toward the Xanilov pups and her failure to protect them. The thought ate at her like a parasite, obsession bringing her mind over every detail again and again to see what she could have done differently. The call was a welcome distraction for the alpha as she appeared promptly at the border. Her eyes swept the strong, two-toned young wolf, ears pricking with interest. He would make a strong asset for the pack... was that his intention? "Katja Finnvi am I," she greeted cautiously, "alpha to this pack. What can I do for you?"
