Bearclaw Valley and he sings to me real low

Diaspora, that was not particularly telling of location, of how far Stigmata might have wandered -- it was not a familiar name to her.  Nor was his surname.  She shook her head, Not my bloodline.  Treason, of Lost Creek Hollow.  She still pretty much kept her history to herself, even though it was now much less important.  If she was going to be followed, it would have been done by now, she would have seen someone she recognized and instead none had arrived.  There was no reason to be obscure, but she did out of habit.

Still, he'd noticed her unease, not that she'd tried particularly hard to bury it, I think there's someone in your pack who really should be dead for his idiocy.  He lives due to pity.  From the distaste when she said that, it was obviously not her choice to let him go.  She regretted not being able to do more, that she hadn't acted more promptly and not let pity be a choice.  But now, the one who had chosen pity wasn't in control.  Redshank was not getting a second chance if he strayed towards Lost Creek again.  I thought he was long gone.