Dragoncrest Cliffs a hundred stories, a hundred lives

Just as suspected, he didn’t recognise the name of the offending pack. He was curious about how they had successfully kidnapped the fiery-coated woman and was tempted to pry. The strain in her voice had been picked up on, however, which smothered his curiosity with ease. Leaving it at that, he thought back to the pack’s name—Blackfeather—so that he could commit it to memory. Although he doubted that they would get too close to the coastal pack, he wanted to be prepared for the off chance that they did.

“Na em kom daun?” he asked. Hvitserk had never really been too interested in her but, from what he remembered, Freyja had. He liked to think that she would want him to do what he could to help her old mentor, which he couldn’t do if Wildfire never came back.