Silvertip Mountain Today's air quality is mauve and speckled

Merrick arrived, borne in the shadows that Aventus thought only he and Astara could slip so thoroughly into. Asperas, too, he supposed, though his little sister showed very little inclination for stealth. Too straightforward in her violence. Too predictable in his estimation. His mind touched upon her only briefly, himself being ignorant to her disappearance from Ursus, before returning to Merrick.

They are strange wolves with strange customs and a strange language, he said. I am not permitted near their young to see how many and how healthy they are, but they certainly do have pups. I believed they might be gentle, toothless dogs like Easthollow, the last word spat out like offal, but I was wrong.

A few days ago they marched out a prisoner and took his ear before exiling him. Easthollow would never have the guts. Aventus tongued his teeth for a moment, then let his muzzle wrinkle in a sneer. Not because he felt any particular way about the treatment of a former Ursus wolf, but because he believed that former Ursus wolf was a waste of flesh and was disappointed they had not killed him outright.

It was Tuur.