Dragoncrest Cliffs the heart grows brutal from feeding on fantasies

"Why didn't I think of that?" Wildfire answered immediately, black tail thumping against the snowy ground even as a grin stole across her face at the mere thought. "I'll definitely talk to him about it." If their pups had experienced their first pack hunt, she hadn't been there for it. Here was her chance to get involved in an important milestone, even if it wasn't technically their first time going through the paces.

The commander's next words scattered those thoughts. Wildfire's heart skipped a beat at those ominous words—"we have to talk," more or less—but Thuringwethil went in an entirely unexpected direction. The Feisripa knew the black she-wolf took her dreams seriously, treating them as omens, but she really didn't know what to make of the bird her mate mentioned. It sounded quite creepy, if she was honest, and a thought struck her which made Wildfire's mouth go suddenly dry.

"Blackfeather Woods," she whispered, ears folding backward. "I think they used blackbirds there as familiars, though I never saw any because of where I was kept. I just overheard things." She swallowed and suppressed a shudder, scooting even closer to Thuringwethil and pressing her face into the Heda's neck. "What did the wretched thing say?" her muffled voice wondered despite herself, already assured this strange messenger was (or had been) in league with their enemies.