Sawyer took a breath as she stared at the stone fence surrounding the pack home. The stones were impeccable, and the molding had not a crack in it. For the age and the seasonal weather, Sawyer expected to see a beaten down fence, but she supposed the pack was rich enough to keep up with their expenses. The black gate was to her right, however, sneaking required subtlety, which meant scaling the fence and not marching through the gate.
She stepped toward the pale grey stones before letting her claws protrude from her fingertips. Sawyer shook her head before leaping toward the top of the fence. When her palms touched the top of the smooth surface she pulled herself up, crouching on the width of the fence, which was about a foot wide. She scanned the darkening yard before jumping toward the
