Dragoncrest Cliffs In the Curve of Old Bones

The young woman who approached wasn’t much older than her younger siblings, her palette bringing to mind wet sand. Masquerade supposed that was fitting. She didn’t hesitate to submit to her, ears splaying and tail hanging limp at her heels.

Hello, Chani. My name is Masque, the Caru greeted, pausing to consider the question. I’m not here to see anyone in particular. I’m from Redtail Rise to the southeast of here. I believe my mother, Avicus, considered our packs allied or, at the very least, on friendly terms.

On second thought, perhaps she should request to speak directly to leadership. Surely if Chani knew anything about these matters, she was still too young to dabble in them. There was no reason she couldn’t pass along a message, Masque supposed, though she would leave that decision up to Chani.

I wanted to inform your pack of Avicus’s death and the resulting change in leadership. Do you think you could pass this news along to your leaders?