Lost Creek Hollow Golden Slumbers

Gunnar, Crowfeather confirmed with a small nod. He offered a smile, hoping to be encouraging.

Kvarsheim is friend, the dark tripod offered after a short pause. He hoped that he might simplify his sentences. Sometimes Bjarna could pick up on his meaning, when he made his words simpler. It was a better habit to form, anyway. Crowfeather realized that he had a poor tendency to run away with his words. It would do him well to keep things meaningful and concise.

Come, come, again, but this time with a gesture of a swinging snout. The dark Star wished to bring the boy into Riverclan and find him something to eat, a warm place to wait for a familiar face. Though his curiosity wished to ask how the Kvarsheim wolf had ended up there, he would wait for Gunnar.