Cricket Creek Bog If you could fly then you’d feel south

Wren already knew she wasn't going to seek out the Saints. Simply because she didn't like the way that Kynareth kept belittling her. 'Darling'. 'Dear'. He hadn't earned the right to call her that. No wolf had. He seemed to doubt she could thrive anywhere but his community too. She watched him leave, probably bored now that he wasn't getting anything from this conversation.

"See ya around" she says to him as the man walks away. Wren was not perturbed by the 'murderer' talk. Any wolf could claim they killed others. They typically did anyway, considering they hunted food. Those elk, deer or what have you didn't ask to be killed. Logic aside, she gave a nod to him and turned away. Waiting for his steps to fade, she began moving in the opposite direct.

Something about Kynareth rubbed her the wrong way.