Dragoncrest Cliffs idyll

Soon, their voices rose in a distraught duet. No third voice rose to join the chorus, the silence in between their calls heavy with anticipation, then dread, then anguish. Druid continued calling despite the viciousness of the cycle, until her face was wet with tears and her throat grew raw.

She didn’t know how many miles a wolf’s voice traveled, yet she knew that this meant Mireille either couldn’t hear them or was unable to respond. Druid pondered these possibilities as she stood at the crest of the rise, peering around disconsolately, her heart crying out for her friend even as her voice fell silent.

Erzulie, Druid rasped, maybe I should go back to Rivenwood, in case she comes there looking for help. I’ll tell mama and Mahler what’s going on so they can help us keep looking. The Graf and Sequoia might possess skills that could aid in their search, or at least Druid hoped.