Swiftcurrent Creek compa

wren was silent and with the unlocked fibres they had unwound along one another, silvertongue crept to feel the edge of some rift, feel its answering pull in her heart. this was an unsure place for her and so she had slammed shut the edge of the windowpane and it felt as though she had caught wren's proverbial finger in the blunt edge. shoulder pressed now to the taller woman. hadn't she done this a thousand times with crowfeather? leant into him, touched him intimately, kissed his face — why was it so different now? "wren has been there," she began again, and with a brazen cast to her mouth which suggested they were not always or ever searching for flowers in their interludes. "at last count, we have four. my fellow leaders, ash paw and crowfeather, a woman named doedapple, and a man named kestrelcloud." how lovely their names were, ringing together. "you would be welcomed. i had come to speak with akavir and arric about a hunt held between the three packs. we had planned it a while ago," her gaze shifting between eshe and wren now, "but i think now we should make it a reality." in the lines of the sharpfang, something gliding and reaching; we are both trying.