Finnian

You've been invited to the main cave while the weather clears up. Your paws drag against the hard stone with anticipation, expecting hostility and skepticism. The cavern walls wrap you in darkness, breathing cold sweat from melted snow along the mountainside. Stalactites run along the cavern mouth and guide you towards the pack. Most are sickly and broken, heaving onto each other their warm breath to incubate what little heat they have left. A pup, no smaller than one of the smallest stalagmites you passed along the way, suckles and whines at his mother for food.

"I don't have any right now," Bronwen snaps huskily.

You've never seen her so worn. Her eyes are sunken deep into her skull and her fur is dripping with snow. She nudges him towards you in an attempt to have some alone time and you oblige out of pity.

"My mom says you're taking too much food. You're a prey stealer!" He snarls at you and unsheathes his freshly pink claws- puppy claws.

"Wha- Finn! Don't say that! I'd never say such a thing- I promise! How about you join me for some vole and we can start talk-talk-talking about alliances?Diplomacy, yay!"

You wrinkle your nose at her obnoxious enthusiasm, but settle down beside them to talk while Finnian rambunctiously rambles to you about flying fish. Bronwen seems happier now that she's given a break.