Hushed Willows And I don't care, I just gotta figure out a window to break out

The woodsman had been hollowed.

The borders of verdant eyes tinged with red. Polished emeralds dulled, absent of their playful inner light. The recent events carved a rift through Heartwood that could not be mended.

Blood at the borders. Boone was gone. Wife and children left behind.

Wolves before him had tried to find him. Kyrell too, restless, desperate to find the Harbinger. To no avail.

In his failure to locate his friend and leader, the Punk folded into himself. He had avoided the Bluebird Thicket as Reverie approached her date. He avoided the birth. Choosing to hunting to have a fresh meal for the new mother.

Kyrell hadn't been watching the borders. He should have been.

He had been wallowing when the Coach made her summons. His ears turned towards her attentively. Waiting for whatever she planned to say.