Swiftcurrent Creek preacher's daughter

And so they'd arrived, tiny little @Mae safe within Wren's grasp. Her heart pounds in her chest, a soft bundle of nerves that threaten to throttle her into overdrive. 
@Akavir was perhaps the last person she wanted to see right now, and though not for any fault of his own, the dread churns and twists no less. Perhaps he wouldn't notice, or more likely, maybe he wouldn't ask. 
The pup is at her feet, now, and Wren's stern gaze is burning a hole in the back of her soft little head. She calls for her father with a loud croon. Maybe she could keep this short and sweet.