Bitterroot Valley Never Close to Heaven

exhale. someone she knew, someone not of these lands — their family had survived beyond the small sibling group, even if in only one cousin, and fréobearn was eternally grateful. she smiled wide to hear his spoken prayer, then responded with one of her own. you are with us, fréo whispered to the high elk, you have followed us this whole way.

only then did she move to close the distance between them, eager to embrace familiarity again. she would reach to hold her shoulder against his, while being watchful of the pressure applied, so as to avoid furthering injury. it isn’t as bad as it looks, fréobearn explained as she caught his stare. her wounds were more obvious, yes, but they’d nearly finished healing. it wouldn’t be long before she was (mostly) back to full health.

célnes and cenric are both here, but we’re still looking for kendrick. mentioning her littermate hit a nerve that fréo was unwilling to acknowledge. it won’t be long before he’s back home. have you found anyone? were there more of the déorwine wolves here?