Swiftcurrent Creek neck full of mockingbirds, all calling your name

He nudged the carcass of the hare to his pups, allowing them to take it upon themselves to tear into it. Mae, sullen to the side, barely offered him a glance. The boys remained silent.

Listless as he was simply from these quiet truths of his children’s internal sufferings, Akavir tried to keep it from showing too much. When Wren called for him, he gave them a quiet goodbye, drifting away with a worry that clung to him, heavier than Lilitu’s disappearance.

His eyes roved over the she-wolf—pointed in her summoning of him, and he could feel the electric of the air. His eyes were silent as he waited for her to speak—wondering what had stirred such anxiety and anger in her.