Blackfeather Woods the gull’s way and the whale’s way

An eerie sanguine glow to the northeast gave Coelacanth pause, and she adjusted her trajectory a few clicks due west to avoid it — but during this period of brief reconnaissance she was swiftly found out.

The wolf who materialized before her was all streamlined muscle and regal grace, and she quailed briefly — but she reacted with instinctive alacrity, whipping around on nimble paws to stretch her spindly legs in an outright sprint. It was the unfamiliar terrain that foiled her, for the dark consort seemed to be everywhere at once — and ultimately, wicked fangs caught and held the sheepdog’s scruff fast. Seelie skittered and struggled, but the long weeks with inadequate sustenance and gnawing hopelessness had her beat. She went limp in the younger wolf’s grasp, tufted ears skimming back to express her compliance.