Wapun Meadow imfou

"yes." heda sighed. "his name was caracal redhawk." tears flooded and fell, though sobs did not ensue. not this time. "after i buried him, i took on widow redhawk as a name. that's how i want to be introduced, etienne. please forget i said heda."
he spoke of a grandmother with a wife she had lost; the redhawk touched his shoulder in solidarity, but the scent of that wolf was —
it sickened her. she did not yank away; she did not want etienne to find anything amiss. "where are we going?"