Porcupine Ridge Runaway Slave

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The answer made sense and her ears tilted back after catching the tiny "sorta" tacked on at the end. Sorta? she asked back. She was not sure how one sorta became separated from a group, exactly. I am, she answered. Group, pack, extended family -- all the same. She liked her comrades on the Sunspire enough to think of them in that way. One from nearby. The mountain, she gestured to the tallest spire of the nearby peaks, wondering then why the little wolf had asked.