Hushed Willows where the world is in the making

The word empire had him blinking in surprise — it sounded more like something out of a fairy tale than something that should be in the real world. Maybe the whole region was a world apart, since a faerie court didn't seem like something that should be real, either — and yet, here he was.

"No ma'am. Haven't heard of any empire," he reported. "I'm kinda between packs. Or kinda part of Easthollow, if they still want me when I get back." He gave a brief account of where Easthollow was, and of what a good woman he imagined Valette to be.

But he was more interested in discussing Lumiya's pack, since that was where he was, and that was what she could tell him about. "And who is your kind?" he asked her, his voice curious and free of judgement. "I've only met Eleuthera and Orlaith, and them two's about as different as I kin imagine. Now I met you, and I ain't too sure what t'think."

But he did think that he liked Lumiya. He liked to look at her, certainly, and the way she carried herself made him think of a cool little crick in a hot, dry autumn: refreshing and rare and often, just what one needed to come across.