Bardulf woke to Mako and Myth growling furiously at some unknown enemy. He carefully left the teepee and looked around, not seeing anything amiss. But he didn't dare question the two. While they had only been part of the pack a short time, they were as loyal as any of his men. He knelt beside Mako and put a hand on his head. "Good or bad smell?" he asked softly.
Mako whined, butting his head into Bardulf's chest. A few feet away, Myth sneezed and began growling more loudly, as if something was too close. Bardulf stood, glanced around, then began to shift. He shook out his fur and sniffed. Immediately, his hackles raised in both wariness and alarm. It was the same bad smell from a while ago, but another scent, a familiar one, was mixed in with it. He howled for his men, howled a warning to the village, and howled his powerful presence that dared try to sneak in.
