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Of course it wasn’t Maxim. He was too large, his eyes entirely the wrong color. He was saying something but Towhee was too busy grappling with her emotions to read his lips. And then the flailing doe recaptured her attention.

Feeling sick with anger just like she had with Aquene, Towhee threw all caution to the wind and lunged for the ungulate’s throat. She took more than one brutal kick to the ribs but she did manage to throttle the damn thing.

Mouth full of blood and chest heaving, the Redhawk backed off the kill. She wasn’t even hungry. Her orange eyes shot to the stranger, wondering what he’d tried to say to her before.

Suddenly, she moved over the carcass again, putting a possessive paw on the doe’s flank. Towhee’s eyes never left the other wolf. She thought he smelled a bit like her daughters’ village, though she couldn’t be sure.

Are you from Moonspear?