Swiftcurrent Creek neck full of mockingbirds, all calling your name

@Akavir if u have the time!! <3 leaving the date on this semi-vague for now

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The creekwoman found that her soul had begun to surge with something new.
A fierceness, a curdling, blistering anger. For days and days, Silvertongue's speech had played over and over in her mind. Germanicus. Akashingo. Crowfeather. It was safe to say her mind had been changed.
How, in good fucking conscience, was anyone letting that asshole live in this valley? Perhaps they knew not what his life had been in Akashingo, but they could not be entirely oblivious!
And so, when she'd returned to the Creek, Wren sought out the only person who knew just how deep this bad blood ran. They had not spoken much since they'd come back from their travels, and now, there were many things to talk over. A can of worms that, Wren felt, had to be opened as privately as possible.
She would wait until she could get him alone, and she would call him into the brush to the farthest edge of the Creek's lands. She tries to smooth her expression, the lines of anger that crease her darkened face. She can only hope it wouldn't be too obvious.