I have no idea what date to set this, but it's obviously before the other two threads, so uh.
The coyote blinked the weariness out of her eyes. Although it was dark in the cave, her internal clock told her it was morning. She pulled herself up off the furs that constituted her bed and stretched. Something important was supposed to happen today and her instincts were telling her to get out of her den and get ready. Alma felt around for her bow and quiver, and as she touched the latter's fur lined mouth, she remembered the conversation she had with Ezekiel. The forest, the stands, the archers - it was time to cut wood.
Alma moved her paw from her quiver and bow, to her axe. After a moment's pause, she picked up another, just in case. She knew the clan had some axes, but she wasn't sure how many they had, or how many people would be joining her today.
With an axe in each hand, Alma made her way out of the Grimmwell Caverns. The sun was still rising in the east, decorating the sky with a spray of red and orange. Songbirds were out and about, singing a loud chorus. One of them flew past her head, chasing something unseen.
The rust-coated coywolf paused once she had reached the mansion's lawn. This was as good a meeting place as any. The horses, the tools in storage - it was all there. Much of the clan resided there, too. Alma was starting to wonder if she should move her residence here as well, since the wolves had always attacked here first.
She gave a few yips to announce her presence, and waited.
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