Silverlight Terrace I'm not my season

Bridget was a cheery sort. She reminded Foxfur of the apprentices back in the Starsea and their eagerness to grow. It felt like more than three years since he had been just a boy, waiting to be granted his mentor and train to be a great warrior.

When the girl stated that the only young men she had knowledge of were those who had been born in the area, Foxfur bowed his head. The ginger-touched ears fell to his head.

Bridget had gone on to say that the runaway princeling must have been an important member of the clan to inspire a search. The warrior nodded his head softly, offering a tired smile to the wolf who kept him company.

He is a seer to our clan. He helps us to translate visions of fate, of destiny. Do you not have anyone like that within your numbers?