[center][h2][color=f26522]James[/color][/h2][/center]
 James had managed To get the essentials into the first house. Things like cups and plates lay on the now dust free table, blankets and pillows stacked on the least broken of the chairs. Gazing around he noted the potential for greatness in the house. The simple wood structure just needed cleaned up a little and it wouldn't be so bad. It would be different than his previous homes, maybe that was a good thing.

Ambrosia called, her voice unmistakable and high. Looking out the door he saw her tall and dark against the snow, looming in front of the last cabin.  He wandered toward her, his eyes picking over the scenery for any signs of wrongness. None were present until he arrived beside her in front of the cabin door. Pupils small he scored the cabin over his mates shoulders. The sharp scent of death and mixed with the must of food gone bad. Buried underneath lay the almost imperceptible lingering of another. 

[color=f26522]"Perhaps he was passing by."[/color] James said, understanding the fear of another werewolf living here, the food agreed with him, no one would purposely leave food. There was still the blood to deal with, it wasn't visible but it could spell out badly for the pack if it were in fact a dead human. Dead humans always attracted more humans.