The Sunspire I cried "dear god, I am your child -- send your angels down."

If Riley was a turtle, he would have pulled right up into his shell the moment Donovan came knocking: nope, sorry, no one is home. He watched as the male trotted towards him, sporting a smear of mud along his cheek and fur so sodden his curled tail seemed weighted.

Once, Donovan had a nickname for Riley. Today, Riley had a nickname in turn. "Hello, Backbiter." The yearling called noncommitally, in a tone curiously similar to the way Esme had addressed him. Oh, he had learned a lot from that cruel little dove -- including how to better think for himself. He had always been autonomous, but he had never given much thought to the whys of the world; what motivated people, and why they behaved the way they did...

He was surprised to see genuine concern on Donovan's face, and for a moment Riley almost felt sorry for his new moniker for the leader. Certainly. Donovan could snap him in have right here and now, if he wanted. "I have been stuck up here." Riley indicated, but showed very little interest in moving. "The rain, and I am looking for ---" his eyes flashed as an uncharitable thought stole across his mind -- "a friend."