Arrow Lake the water in my bones was running dry

i hoped to wedge it in a wolf’s throat. qiao called back over the water, her reflection shimmering as she rose from the bank. she stayed a distance away, for the taotaomona forbade her approach with bristling energy. 

but the time has not been right. qiao lamented this, thinking of how the antler sat on a shelf back at akashingo. no one but Ephraim knew the power behind it — and while qiao did not know whose life it had already ended, she sensed its points had been baptized by blood before. you look better than last i saw you. how is that paw?