Dragoncrest Cliffs Bitterling

Quennell’s words were a stabbing barb of the reminder of guilt. Swordfish believed that their fight would have never happened if they had hunted something else, gone somewhere different, if he had failed to catch the damned bird. The young redtail felt that he was to blame, but he also had no reasonable way to work through such an emotion – so he smothered it.

The invitation was not ignored. Quen was being nice, showing kindness in the face of some terrible thing that had happened between the three of them. Swordfish wouldn’t deny him. In fact, he appreciated that the red-naped boy was willing to push forward and move on. He didn’t want to stew on it. The young wolf wanted it to disappear.

I was thinkin’ ‘bout using that bait idea of yers. Maybe on somethin’ bigger like a deer er goat.

Wouldn’t that be a rare treat for their pack? And it would give them something else to talk about besides the events that had taken place with the gulls.