There had been one wolf who stuck out from the rest, isolated by her foreign origins and apparent inability to integrate. Why she was here, Craw still had no idea - and, frankly, with every other member of Willow Ridge being of higher direct importance to the developing situation, he hadn't cared to find out. He had explained her avoidance of him as indicative of her nature, for she seemed to avoid everyone... but Morganna had implied that, perhaps, her anti-social behaviour around Craw was rather more personal.
That was more interesting.
With two sunrises down, and one to go, Craw wondered whether any of the other packwolves who had attended Morganna's meeting were counting them as eagerly as he. Would Skoll go through with it, would Nicolo take the bait, who would prevail? Did it matter? Hecate's days were numbered, and if Skoll behaved, so was he. The man had many faults but love for his child was not one; he had to prioritise his unborn whelps, lest risk them and his mate dying in the wilderness. Perhaps if he did not chase after his banished pregnant bitch, Craw would... Ruminating on that entertaining notion, he stalked through the trees, paying attention to little save for a whiff of the only true unknown element left to pin down.
A trail was caught and pursued, and only minutes later a flash of red in his vision immediately drew his attention. "Capable," he barked, before she vanished in a puff of smoke, for once not willing to give her the opportunity to avoid confrontation. That said, he made sure that his manner was not aggressive; the purpose of this wasn't to scare her off. He just wanted something, any hint of what was going on in her disagreeable head. Not waiting for her to acknowledge him, he trotted after her, ears twisted forwards and tail relaxed. "I was hoping for an opportunity to... start over."