Sawtooth Spire the art of war is of vital

speaking of andraste makes his wedmarks twinge along his ribcage: healed, but pink and rugged with fresh scar tissue. he does not wish his thoughts to linger in her grave anymore than he wishes for them to linger in relmyna's. he has loved and he has lost — more than once. by this point, he is a champion of looking forward and despite himself, holding out hope that love is not meant to always be so tragic for him.

❝we are one pack. sagtannet,❞ he corrects her with a tug of his lips mischievously. wintersbane hadn't been sure how mahler would react to him, let alone the offer of a merger — if andraste told him of her and the gargoyle's torrid affair he hadn't paid enough attention to put two and two together — but regardless, mahler and andraste was laid to rest and in the past with the fey queen ...just as the tundrian and her were. there was no point in holding any animosity for what will never be again. lingering had never been wintersbane's style.

wintersbane's ears perk slightly, surprise flitting across his scarred facial features as she asks for forgiveness and states that courtfall members hadn't given him enough credit. ❝i don't blame the ones that left any more than i blame those that had or have doubts. i am the man that andraste brought home and rose to leadership without consultation.❞ would wintersbane's be in their footsteps he, too, would've had serious doubts ...he was known to be judging of his leaders when in a subordinate position and unafraid to let the gavel fall with all of his harsh and unfiltered opinions. ❝i would feel the same.❞ thus, he can hardly be judge and jury.

❝i only did that i thought was best with the unexpectedness of it all. i couldn't be sure it was the right call. but ...all things considered, i think that sagtannet is the best thing to come out of the tragedy and that together we are much stronger than we were as diaspora and courtfall.❞ and with the promise of cubs in the spring ...the outlook was brighter yet.