Altar of Twilight a bitter pill to swallow

Katya Noir might learn in time to trust her instincts. They were certainly not wrong, not about Belharra McKinlaugh. She was a scrappy wolf, and a good wolf to have on your side.. if she fancied being on your side that day.

Belharra sauntered off, nose to the ground. All she smelled was snow, some stale scents, and her own trackings. Listening to the hush of the forest, she didn't hear much either. "Well, best get to it." She padded down a slope, ducking under a brush of pine. "Ye ever hear about the Cotter's Moon, then?" Her eyes flashed back to Katya apprisingly, wondering if her culture had far-reaching tendencies.