Ravensblood Forest the tree who cried crimson

Finley was expecting a downtrodden character—the half-missing face, less so. She found the sullen wolf on a sparse deer path, and despite their unfamiliarity, Derg hardly looked alert. Clearly, Finley thought, Donovan hadn’t trained him much; she wondered how long he’d even been here, to be comfortable among the Saints in a state like this. If it was an act, she was convinced.

Her stare was shameless, but it’d been long enough. Blinking, Finley greeted him with a small dip of the head, keeping her distance just in case. “Finley, new recruit,” she said. “You’re Derg, I presume?”