Nova Peak different drum

He spoke, and Sequioa knew that she was in the clear—at least for now. He introduced the name of his pack first, then his own name, and a question for her. She rolled to her feet, though her stance remained suitably respectful.

Sequoia, she said, giving her own name in return. Her voice was more hollow than she recalled.

What had actually brought her here was complicated, but she imagined he did not wish to hear that. She was the one who was supposed to be the shoulder to cry on, and when she had needed one, nobody fit the role. Was that what brought her?

Winter is here, and spring comes after, she said. I seek to make a family when that time comes. Perhaps children would bring her the joy that Crow had stolen from her heart. It was a long shot, but maybe it would work. If she had been giving advice to herself, she would have told herself that this was the most ludicrous idea she had ever heard. Practicing what she preached, however, was hard to swallow when all she wanted to do was curl up next to the very wolf who had caused her so much pain.

Forget him.