Sun Mote Copse wandering through broken shadows

Their lives were short. The way Natjuk sees it, there is ample opportunity to be both nasty and nice in one's lifetime. Now was the time to be kind but neutral; hopeful but anticipating the worst. And he does not know this Ambrose. Would he fight to stay alive or let death take hold? Not an easy question to answer. What tormented lives they experienced...

Niamh Blackthorn of the Redhawks shows him where they dwell, motioning to the tableland through the growth. He's somewhat acquainted with the location but he looks anyway. He does not know of the happenings within Niamh's home. No, nothing like that. Only that the Redhawks are a congregation of wolves and him, a lone wolf.

Niamh asks if he has a home. There is a tightness in his chest at the inquisition.

No, I do not. He is careful to keep his tone steady despite the feelings brewing beneath the surface. Guilt. Sadness. Take your pick.