Swiftcurrent Creek As my garden grows aches and the turf drinks old rain

Of all the times for the man to come back, he did so in one of the moments when Moss strayed from Reverie’s side to hunt something for her to eat. She abandoned her chase the moment the howl reached her ears, gnashing her teeth together in frustration. A swipe of her paw against a tree left fresh claw marks. Her paw smarted, but she grimaced and carried on toward the borders regardless.

Her pupils narrowed when she caught Reverie’s scent, so heavily mingled with that of Blossom that Moss assumed the child was in tow. The giant wolf hastened her pace, until she set sight on the clutch of wolves.

She did not recognize Lestan as being one of them- not since he’d left, and he returned now with a stranger. The auburn wolf looked young, and uncomfortable. Lestan had clearly been through some sort of ordeal while he’d been away but he received no charitable welcome from Moss- who brought herself to a firm stance at Reverie’s side. She regarded the two with a frown, expecting now to hear some string of excuses.