Fox's Glade hi welcome to dennys

‘Eventually’ had come, in one way or another, and so Aurëwen had begun to press through the wood in a manner more befitting of a hind — the manner of being that Athansius had made her smart at. But was it, in fact, wrong? Here she was, head on an endless, unassuming low-and-rise; stepping almost timidly in every way. So, was that assessment as faulty as she claimed?

The encounter with Rakk had been long forgotten — the amateur hunt and the end she’d brought to him had been drowned beneath the fond veils of pregnancy and now children.

...But there was an ebb, an old, unwelcome ebb; an ebb from before anything Teekon that made Aure look up, fracturing and stiffened, with eyes that sought something within the gloom. And though she could scent fauna and see nothing amiss, she halted, and stilled as Death does.

There was something amiss she couldn’t place — didn’t want to place.