Phoenix Maplewood we drew our heavy revolvers and exultantly killed the gods

Another wolf materialized from the woods, causing Ephraim's shoulders to prickle under his coat with discomfort. There were still more of them than the strangers, and the boy suspected that his hardened Dragedan comrades could make easy work of the pair if they had to, but he didn't like this. Not one bit. It went against his entire nature to linger so close to another pack's borders without a reason that he understood, but Thuringwethil's motives remained unclear to him until she explained herself to Aviana.

Ah, he thought, it has history. This was a part of the pack's past he didn't know anything at all about. Sleeping Dragon he had heard in passing and seen in person now, but the maple forest before him and its significance was a complete mystery. A hunting ground, he guessed, though he had seen suitable grounds closer to the volcano. He knew Thuringwethil was a smart leader. They never would have claimed a territory that required them to go this far for food.

It had to be something else, but he didn't know what. Eager for knowledge, the coywolf took a curious step closer and set his sights on Aviana. Desdemona got a cursory flick of his vision, but little more; for the time being she wasn't any threat.