The Council
The first thing to be noticed about the Den of Councilors is the oddly perfect hemisphericical formation of stone that defines its bearings. The floor here is slightly damp, mossed-over, comfortable underneath calloused pawpads when there is nothing to further callous them. A gap above opens up to always allow in the cast of either moon or sun along the thin stripe of water trickling along one edge piece of the floor, flowing from one cavern mouth to the other. Here in the desert, this can only begat life and spiritual energy.The Councilors who reside here are the special task unit of the pack, taking on the more complex jobs so that the rest of the pack can move about their day-to-day. They lead the pack together even if the decision primarily fall to the alpha. As such, those who rest here are held in high regard. The scouts rest together in lichen fluff, never home enough to make their indent, tended to by the herbalist so that their difficult journeys are more rewarding. The herbalist rests under a hanging canopy of dried herbs and natural stone shelves of tinctures. Near to one of the cavern's two mouths, the leader rests on a bed of feathers, pelts, and bones. Placing one's nose to the edge of the bed, where the stream of water begins, and listening to it erode the stone is a calming way to fall asleep.
Some inexplicable energy rests here that can't be explained. Those who dream here often dream of mystical lunar lands, a little desert town that once thrived in the past, and wolves who have passed on. Perhaps it was once a blessed place used for communion. It's ours now.