Dragoncrest Cliffs i wanted to be your anchor

Eske is the only one to speak up and no one else has anything to say. They’re all tired and Étoille and Furi have already gone off on their own, and Blixen has lift. Surely Dio and Portia will leave soon but they’ve stayed in place anyway. She doesn’t even want to have this conversation but she clears her throat, and looks across the way at Bobby and Artaax that seem to be having their own reunion. She doesn’t want to talk much about it in front of them, either, because she doesn’t knw how honest she can be with them looking at her. Thuringwethil licks her lips and then returns her focus to Wanlida and Wocha.

“We are not sure who did it but I met two wolves outside of the caldera that mention Blackfeather Woods and a wolf there terrorizing them,” she says and takes a deep breath. If it’s the same wolf, or the same pack, they won’t last much longer. “For now, we’ll wait. We can’t do anything until we know more. They will send a scout to us when they have more information. We need to focus on Drageda, here, preparing for the winter, but we should train more—spars, patrols, the like—should war be the answer to all this,” she further explains, knowing likely she’ll be leading her wolves into battle.

She diverts any other question for later that can’t be answered with a simple yes or no or brief explanation. There isn’t argument to this, either, and for that she is thankful. Thuringwethil takes a deep breath, watching as everyone dissipates and she finally skulks back to Hougeda, a tired, ragged, and hollowed out shelf of a commander.

286