Dragoncrest Cliffs But I am still new at getting old

He wanted to see her for himself.  Drageda had taken a captive — a natrona — and so soon after Wildfire's departure, he is full of a whole host of feelings he has no desire to sort through.  Still. He forges through the territory at a quick clip, stiff limbs carrying him surely towards the wolf who dare stand defiant in the face of Drageda.

She is red.  

She's just a few pips away from being the same color as Kiwi.  A bump in saturation and she'd be the same as Wildfire.  Douse her in breaks of white and she'd be Sequoia.

He wonders if red is the color of traitors, and if that is why Blixen has been trying so hard to prove herself to nomi.

He stays hidden, or at least quiet, as a howl rings from the Sound and up into the cliffs, and his eye turns to the captive.