The peregrine falcon soared across the canopy of young trees, circling about until she found a decent clearling. Pirqua spiralled down and alighted on a half-fallen birch tree, where she began to call loudly to gain the attention of the pack. The Lurkers had a request.

As his father was busy meeting a new pack member, Jagged had decided to respond to Pirqua's call. The wolf padded gracefully towards the Falcon, and came to a stop a few feet from the tree to look up at the Lurker. "Hello Pirqua, and what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?"

Her dark, slate-blue and white head caped head was swiveled down to look at the wolf below her. After rousing her feathers, she replied, "Our pack is tired and worn; Hydras has requested that the Aspen Grove hunt for us." The falcon stated it in a casual manner, though it wasn't completely devoid of a touch of disdain. She still held this pack responisble for the death of her son, and wouldn't soon forgive them of it.

Jagged wacthed the bird, and her slight hostility did nothing to make him want to help. However, the shaky but needed alliance between them forced him to agree. "You can tell Hydras there shall be food delivered to the alleys as soon as we can get it. I shall inform my father and gather a hunting party."

He gave a nod, but it was void of any sort of emotion, as he turned to leave the bird with no more words. Time to hunt.