Lost Creek Hollow Bluegill

Late, Crowfeather breathed heavily as he approached the side of Silvertongue. She had just asked their visitor’s name. Sandy had already arrived and spoken to the boy. 

Three legged, but not nearly as wounded as the young wolf who faced them. How had he come this far? Crowfeather thought back to when he had been attacked by the white woman in the canyon. He had willingly laid and thought that he would die from the wounds she had inflicted. This child stood and fought with greater spirit than anything the shadow had known. 

We- We can help. Come with me and Silvertongue. Deeper into Riverclan. We need you nearer to the herbs, he instructed in his soft voice.