Lion Head Mesa Shinzō-byō

Satsu spoke of war and plans. Several more pieces fell into place.

Where the plan for a spy had come from, he was not certain, but he could recall asking her for things. The fuzziness had faded, only slightly.

The queen asked him if he could remember what the plan was, before the war. Crowfeather swallowed, the lump in his throat bobbed. He did not remember a plan beyond a spy. The young figure’s gaze searched the floor at his paws before they darted up to Satsu’s face. The shadow was pleading with her, fearful that something had gone terribly wrong.

I think there was a spy. Someone to go and find out what… the… bad wolves were doing?

Was that right?