Northstar Vale can't no preacher man save my soul

Northstar Vale. The name of the hidden valley came to Ruenna’s mind at last. Perhaps if she had ever lived here, as she and Liri had planned, she might have recalled more about the territory. They had been in the process of gathering followers when Liri’s accident occurred. 

The vale stretched out before the waif like an oasis in the desert; the hidden gem of the Sunspires. Rue had halfway expected to catch scents of Diaspora here-- it would have been the perfect place for Stigmata’s roaming pack to settle down for winter. Curiously, Rue had yet to scent any Diaspora wolves or markers at all, despite having spent most of the last week travelling west to east, right through the heart of the mountain chain. Had Stigmata given up his impossible vision to hold the Sunspires? For Mahler’s sake, Ruenna hoped so. Stigmata’s unquenchable ambition would be Diaspora’s downfall, and he was poised to take all of his packmates down with him. 

A call met Ruenna’s ears, and they twitched to attention. The howl was distant, and she was only able to catch a few words. Witch. Healing. ...Interesting. As if responding, the ever-present pain at the base of Ruenna’s spine gave a cruel twinge.