Greatwater Lake thirty-fifth

She knew the way and would not wait. Cutting through the dark, blugeoning the way through the trees and to the lakefront, and on her heels the force of Akashingo. Zharille did not know the bargain she had struck, not wholly. She did not care — her only interest was her children, and then in order of importance came the land, and Khaba; and when given the chance the boar of a woman would seek her bloodline and reunite them.

The wrath she carried was barely contained. The little man, in his long-winded way, declared the crimes of Khaba and then gave Zharille an order, to which earned a glare and a grunt, but she was away to seek the scents of Miho, Racharra, Liezal, and Drusk.

Only, they did not remain together. At least one was absent, and this lack of scent further stoked the infernal fires of her rage.

Let them speak upon the borders; she did not care to lob words back and forth like stones in slings; Zharille was something more primal now — a scorned woman, a mother kept from what was her's.