Sleepy Fox Hollow einigung

Rivenvood. Her ear twitched again. It wasn't a completely unfamiliar name to her, if she recalled Argent's words correctly, yet she could not help the twinge of upset she felt at the reminder that Diaspora was long gone. Killed with her father, certainly. She felt no real attachments to the pack she had been born into, and she understood more than ever how overly ambitious Stigmata had been, but the sentiment was powerful nonetheless.

Shrewd silver eyes naturally scrutinized Mahler's expression with each word he gave, and her heart ached to know that hardships had come to define this part of his life. She had expected -- or rather hoped -- to find him, but not under these conditions. And despite her sympathy for his plights, understanding eluded her as he explained that Rivenwood had disbanded simply because of the sickly herds. She almost didn't believe it. Almost.

She suddenly wondered if his new scars had anything to do with it.

I'm sorry to hear that, she said quietly. River had many questions -- Why wouldn't your wolves stick together? Who set their teeth to you? Do I need to hunt them down and repay the favor? Are you in good company now? -- but Mahler, by simply being who he was, had earned the benefit of the doubt. In lieu of interrogating him, she declared: If there's anything at all I can do to support you, I would be happy to do so. It would be a welcome distraction, at any rate.

To his query, she gave a rueful smile. Not only, she replied. To escape, more like. This may sound stupid, but I actually came to talk to my father. I no longer know what my place is in this world, so I'm looking for... some sort of confirmation, I guess you could call it? She felt no shame in admitting this to him. These mountains were the only place she could think to run to after the loss of her first children. She couldn't fathom what else to do at a juncture like that.