Alpha Lorcan Calibar sat in his study, the flickering candlelight casting dancing shadows across the weathered pages of the reports spread out before him. Each parchment held accounts from his pack members stationed at the borders, detailing sightings of rogue werewolves prowling dangerously close to their territory.

His piercing gaze darted back and forth between the reports and the meticulously drawn maps scattered across his desk. Lines of tension etched deep furrows into his rugged features as he absorbed the information, his mind calculating the potential threat posed by these intruders.

The reports were consistent, each one describing encounters with rogue werewolves displaying aggressive behavior and a blatant disregard for the pack's territory. Lorcan's jaw clenched with determination as he realized the gravity of the situation. These rogue werewolves posed a direct threat to the safety and security of his pack, and he knew that decisive action would be required to confront them.

With a heavy sigh, he reached for a quill and parchment, his hand moving with practiced precision as he began to formulate a plan of action. His mind whirled with thoughts of strategy and tactics as he plotted the most effective course of action to deal with the rogue werewolves and protect his pack.

As he worked, the candle flames danced in the dimly lit room, casting eerie shadows that seemed to flicker and dance with a life of their own. But Lorcan remained focused, his senses honed to a razor's edge as he poured over the reports and maps, determined to devise a plan that would ensure the safety and security of The Native Howls.