Whitefish River vonn, gently tucking unconscious guards into bed:

Partway up the plateau, Vonnaruil had turned back. No, a voice murmured, one not within his possession. Not yet. Not time. Wait. When his dubious musings threatened to sway him further up the rise, it came, again: Courtfall must wait.

Courtfall?

He hadn’t heard that name before, not from any of the tongues he’d known of. But the Newcomer had listened to this voice — whoever it belonged to — and had offered to escort Reiko back the way they’d both come.

Once returned to the riverlands, the crow thought it’d be best to begin his stay leisurely. Marking, in leisure ...patrolling, in leisure ...fancying each member here, in leisure ...being indebted to his Count, in leisure ...and so it was how his day ultimately went as late afternoon began to bleed into the world.