Moonspear And show me how to be whole again.

Ears erect, Talion listened for a response, and her voice rose from a distance. With a whimper he pressed his raven lobes back, hunched his scruffy shoulders and settled in for a long wait.

By the time she slipped through the darkness, her pelt shimmering blue-black in the moonlight, the ashen yearling had collection a hat and cape of snow. He pulled himself onto his tired paws and remained low in submission, the tip of his tail twitching in anxious greeting. Hydra did not address him with words but, as he peeked up to gauge her expression, he figured he best not waste her time.

"Twenty four," he said, looking down again, "a stag and his females." He swallowed then, relieving the dryness of his throat as he concentrated on the thrum of his own heartbeat which sounded in his ears. "Two appear quite old, maybe just enough to slow them down as Winter continues, but otherwise in good condition. Another is lame, but only slightly." Inhale. "The herd seem to keep close to her, surround her."