Dawnlark Plains Stop, what the hell are you talking about?

Unfamiliar words passed between the two men, bringing to mind the moments when Phaedra and her father had whispered in the secret language that Wylla did not understand. Heartsickness swept through her so quickly that she tasted bile in her throat and thought she might throw up.

She swallowed, queasy. The younger of the two males departed, while the older explained that he had sent Kigipigak to find Stag. He isn't here yet, Wylla said, but the silvery-white Tartok was already on his way. The world behind Stjornuati's head appeared to be listing to the right as Wylla grappled with her feelings. She forced herself to focus on his nose to steady herself, which she now noticed was more of a beige hue than the normal black. How had she not noticed that before? I left early to scout ahead for a suitable place to base ourselves. He's probably still making his farewells. She hoped, anyway, that Stag took the time to say goodbye to his mother and to Phaedra. She didn't want them to suffer by wondering where he'd gone.

Stalwart Stjornuati asked for details on why she no longer led. Heat crept uncomfortably up Wylla's neck to be put on the spot. It's a long story I'd rather not talk about, she admitted. Basically, we were no longer a good fit for one another. A year spent in service was not enough for them to trust my judgment as a leader, and they're not the wolves I thought they were. Her mouth was dry. Her eyes were prickling. Firming up her jaw, she added, and I had my heart broken.

It wasn't relevant and she felt instantly stupid for saying it. Stjornuati would not care. It was foremost in her mind at all times and just came out, but she berated herself for being so weak.