Hoshor Plains And I see fire, blood in the breeze,

Riley digested this admission with some skepticism, but ultimately was forced to accept facts: Orlaith was very much no longer Orlaith, and now she had a wicked scar to prove it.

He wondered how her past self would like this new, softer self -- he did not see much of the flickering fire of Orlaith's previous iteration.

They would revisit where she was now some other time; there were more pressing things at hand. "Well.." Riley shifted, unsure of how to start. Even in the best of circumstances, one could hardly call Riley a reliable source. He was terrible at any sort of communication, his speech patterns were stilted, and he often focused on seemingly irrelevant details.

He supposed he ought to start at the beginning. Still suspicious, and giving her a squint, he turned his hip towards her so she could see the freshlaid scar along his hindquarters. "You gave me this." He moved away, settling a wary distance from the phoenixstrife.

"You attacked me because I was --" he wasn't trespassing, but his teeth gritted: "I was looking for a friend on territory your pack was in the process of claiming." His throat rumbled with something akin to extreme displeasure.

"You left that pack. Something about your queen -- who I could have told you was an insufferable git -- not respecting you enough. You and I met a few weeks back up there --" He motioned towards the distant Sunspire, which loomed over them dark and gloomy. We watched the rain together. "Then you were gone."