Broken Antler Fen Indigo

He knew Wraen jested, though her comment made him wonder: could he have grandchildren out there, via Lele or Harps? Maybe he ought to have put a little more effort into locating the girls, though it was a little late now. And he deserved a bit of a break, after dealing with Spur's bullshit for so many years. His daughters were grown now, they didn't need him, though he would be very glad if they happened to cross paths someday so he might meet any of their offspring.

Setting that thought aside, Tambourine followed his old friend and new leader into this so-called enchanted forest. He smiled, a careworn and content thing. It really was good to find someplace to settle down, to slow down. His head cocked—sending his unruly ear flipping and flopping again—when Wraen mentioned the matriarchy.

"I assume you're the queen of the castle," he drawled, "but could you tell me about the others? And anything else I should know about... Brecheliant?" If "poltergeist" sounded like a sneeze, then the pack's name was a cough. But it didn't matter one whit, since Tambourine would think of it by a simpler name: home.