I figure they could probably build some fences or something? c: 501 words.
Though the girl had the wanderlust deep in her soul, Foxglove did not spend nearly as much time travelling as she once had. Her arrival in the tribe had been fairly recent, but she had not yet even stepped foot outside of the borders after her acceptance. The young Tsula Agateno was grateful for the opportunity to live in the tribe and she wanted nothing more than to show them her gratitude by doing all that she could for them. Foxglove would feel the pull soon, she suspected, but she would not go far; her duties as a scout allowed her the freedom of movement without the guilt that accompanied it with pack life. The band of gypsies had been different, of course, but if she were to roam now as she did then, it would not bode well for her comfort in the pack. Foxglove needed to settle more.
Lolita had described the wolfdog Liliana in detail, but the young blonde girl had yet to meet her, something that nonplussed her a great deal. It would happen eventually, she knew, unless the woman had left the tribe entirely, but she would have expected to run into her by now. Along with her usual scouting duties, Foxglove often searched for the Vess woman, but there had been no luck thus far. Humming to herself, the young blonde wolfdog moved gracefully, keen emerald eyes searching the area around her. Not only did she have her scouting duties to attend to, but she also was searching for the members of the neighboring pack. The tribe had an alliance, she was told, and the members would be working to rebuild after the storm. Foxglove had not been here for the storm, and it had apparently ravaged the area only weeks, maybe even days, after she had parted ways with her sister and her barely-known father to leave with her mother and eldest sister. It must have been devestating.
Adorned in the usual gypsy-wear of her two-legged form, Foxglove fiddled with the ribbons of the corset-style top with one lithe hand, the fingers of the other dancing gently over the loose, thick braid she wore her hair in on one side of her head. Her thoughts had drifted, but she still had enough awareness of her surroundings to realize that she was not alone on this day. She studied the stranger, peering at her down her long muzzle and over the light pink nose that tipped it, folded ear twitching briefly. The wolf was no one that she recognized and the scent was not the fragrant, familiar scent of the tribe, but she was not worried. She was hardly one to be hostile to strangers; the girl was seemingly beyond her years, affected by the condition that her mother was afflicted with, though she was so very different from the creamy-furred Monroe Matriarch. Foxglove suspected that this wolf might be a member of the allied pack, here to help rebuild, perhaps. "Hello," she called breathily.
.foxgltrans02 b {font-weight:bold; color:#000000; letter-spacing:1px; }
.foxgltrans02 .ooc { font-style:italic; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px;}
.foxgltrans02 p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;}
.foxgltrans02 {margin:0px auto; width:450px; background-color:none; background-image:url(http://img28.imageshack.us/img28/168/foxgltrans.png); background-position:bottom right; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:none; padding: 15px 0px 15px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; line-height:12px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;}
</style>