Lost Creek Hollow we all feed on tragedy

The tripod led them into a peaceful part of their territory. The trees offered cover from the harsh elements. Water trickled from one of their streams. As they walked, the dark man spoke of the proposed alliance. It had made Crowfeather nervous, when Silvertongue had brought it up to him. He had thought that he wasn’t equipped to negotiate something like that. She had done all the heavy lifting, regarding their relationships with Kvarsheim and Swiftcurrent.

The shadow could only be honest with Akavir.

I don’t know much about these things, I’m afraid, he admitted. I suppose I can tell you what we have to offer and you may decide if that will… serve you well.

Crowfeather turned to face the man, finding a place where they could stop and enjoy the view of their surroundings. Birds chattered from the trees over their heads. The tripod’s honey eyes shifted to the man’s companion, offering an uncertain smile.

We have a good few who know a thing or two about healing. We have many herbs, too. I’ve got several stocks, he began, hoping to start off strong with what Riverclan could provide. If there were dangerous wolves afoot, healers would be a valuable asset.