Blackfeather Woods my life and all seemed turned to clay

there on the plain white of the wolf's skull their blood converged, red trickling against stark white like some obscene talisman. astara was first to withdraw her paw, her gaze mistrusting as she watched her mother's eyes flicker. a tendril of a voice, barely audible between the shiver of the trees, caused astara's ears to stir -- but as she listened harder, the words disappeared.

a chill had settled around them, and it seeped through her skin like icy water. her feral gaze fixated on the two of them - relmyna and averna both - for she sensed rather than saw a new presence coldly sitting among them.