Otatso Wetlands maybe when the stars arrive

He spoke, but it did not change Hatshepsut's opinion of Njal, for she had set her mind to pondering why it was the shadow-beast was so pressed to disparage his comrade. The scent of the Creek had laid more thickly upon Njal than upon this cur — she was inclined to believe he had been one of its members for quite some time longer than the one who sought to tarnish his name.

"Are your leaders so paranoid, so frightened of their own shadows, that they must send men such as yourself to roam the lands and speak ill of your packmates?" A gentle scoff floated from her throat. "A pitiful existence indeed."

Her gaze hardened, cooled; she regarded the smoke-fellow with blatant disinterest now shining in her eyes, and proceeded to look past him at some fixed point beyond his shoulder. It was a dismissal, and the beast would do well to take it.

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