Blacktail Deer Plateau I will remember your face

lot's wife -- that was how lasher likened malachi, watching the tension fill the man's shoulders as they beat an exhausted plod back to blue willow's side. he himself glanced back several times at the gommorah of the inferno behind -- he did not fear salt, for it dripped in bitter rivulets down his cheek. he bent one foreleg to wipe them away, giving a short bark as the trio approached the copse where he had left his lover and their children.

"willow," he whispered, wishing fervently that he could nose into the velveteen fur of her bosom and fall into a fitful sleep there. "the rest must be scattered. safe, but lost for the moment," he explained, motioning toward mordecai and malachi. his pups were given a once-over, and then he sent a friendly wave of his plume toward the male wolves.

"i think that the healing den is untouched. perhaps we rest there for the eve."