Gale Gorge held the promise of being the perfect territory to move forward with. Relatively secure, with great hunting and herb grounds. A pack needed a woodland to survive. An area to hunt and gather. Losing mile high woods had been a blow, and there was a lot of work to do in Gale Gorge, but it was a start.

The Warlord had commissioned a map from one of his wolves, and he laid out on a large flat stone now. He still needed to verify any weak points that led into the Gorge, to properly fortify the territory. It Was always the first thing the Warlord did. Fortify and strengthen, then build.

Ignita came back from the stream she had sipped from. Her eyes scanned the surroundings. She smelled a strangely familiar delicacy she had once thought to be exotic. Beaver. This could be their natural habitat. Her golden eyes roved over the lush loamy soil.

She turns back to Basilisk overlooking the newly sketched map. Her eyes briefly scanned the details the artist had included and looked up to match them to the features they referred to. Her face scrunched briefly with a microexpression of distaste. They had put one feature too close to another. It wasn't perfect. She wanted to make a better map. Oh but if she adjusted her angle... Oh fine, the artist must have been at a different angle then. Fair enough.

Her internal thoughts were always churning. The walls of the gorge towered over them and the winds seemed to be gentle today, though no doubt would be violent in other points of the season.

"Hmmm... We should consult one of the healers, possibly even Wylan about the best place to put a garden." She mentioned absently, oblivious that his mind was definitely not on gardens at the moment.

"Speech"