Blackfeather Woods even the darkness has arms

her roaming of the wood's lower reaches had begun to bore relmyna — the land above held much more interest for her. the altar did not go unguarded, her own clumsy fetishes laid near those of potema, whom relmyna revered almost as a goddess in her own right. and cicero — it was a thought the she-wolf did not allow herself to consider. 
her trudging rove was not without matters of the mind, however. relmyna carried the rock of words and thought of little maegi, so serious for such a young wolf. perhaps in time relmyna could soften the jagged edges that had begun to curl over the girl's heart. she thought too of creeping euron and curious ramsay; she felt in her breast the unfurling of affection for the spiderlings of blackfeather.
she drew up short at the sight of a near-stranger in blackfeather. his scent was tangled with that of vaati — so this creature was one of theirs, she supposed, but could not fight the odd uneasiness that suddenly clawed at her psyche. determined not to speak to the tyro, relmyna set her jaw and lengthened her stride, intending to pass the man and be done with it.