Phantom Hollow There's no place like home

In a roundabout way, Dante shared his own trades: Gamekeeper, Warden and Counselor, by the sound of it. The latter was something Wildfire had contemplated once or twice. It sort of suited her nature. She was soft-spoken and a good listener. She liked offering a shoulder to those in need too. But her three callings had done just that: called to her.

"Instincts," she replied when he asked how she'd predicted the storm's unseasonable ferocity. She smiled at him because Dante had just mentioned them himself. "Also, the sky was a strange color and the clouds were doing weird stuff. But mostly I just had a really bad feeling. I think it's called a hunch, right?" She took a glimpse at his face.

When her golden eyes faced forward again, she saw a shifting light ahead and realized after a moment that she was staring at a glare off water. "The lake!" she cried, itching to gallop there and then past it, all the way home. Wildfire barely resisted the urge, though there was definitely a new eagerness to her demeanor and haste in her step as they made their way toward the distant shore.