Mama, I just killed a man

As she scouted the caribou herd - returning, now that it was spring, to their calving grounds here in the north - seeking for any caribou weakened by the winter that they might pull down, a deep howl caught in her ears. She stood erect, suddenly alert. Laufey rarely, if ever, called for her, so hearing his voice was a matter of great interest, as was it's location.

The border.

A wolf seeking admittance? A trespasser? He had called for her, specifically, but it could easily have been anything. She set out at a brisk lope, scattering a few of the snorting, irritated caribou who - recognizing a lone wolf not in a hunting crouch was not a threat - immediately went back to nosing under the snow for lichen.

Things were not good at the border.

Her mercury eyes took in the scene with complete calm. Laufey, his giant frame straddling the limp form of a female. Drag marks, saliva coating her scruff. No trespasser, but someone who had been dragged - by him? - from elsewhere.

"Care to tell me what this is, Laufey?" she asked dryly, tilting her head back to stare up at her cousin's son.