Chimera Fields surrounded by debris of the past

cam didn't do well with sarcasm. he preferred a more direct way of speaking, and this young man's acerbic jokes rubbed him slightly the wrong way. still, he was relieved that there was no grievous injury—or so it seemed—and focused on the questions at hand.

there are wolves around who call themselves saints, cam explained. they're anything but. horrible pack—have you run into any of them? for the stranger's sake, he hoped he hadn't, or wouldn't in the future. not since moonspear had anyone spooked him so badly, and the saints hadn't even left a mark.

not a physical mark, anyway.

he shrugged. i don't really have a title, nor do i want one, he continued, and then watched the other wolf expectantly, waiting for his response.