Qeya River crudo

The stranger spoke. Gavrel had been around the reticent Rise wolves for long enough that it was a culture shock when the words came freely, touched by a pleasant accent he could not place. She might as well have been reciting a clarion canto.

He let Redd lead the interaction. In this liminal territory she was still different from Wealda. He wondered how many clothes she wore, and how she did this without an inkling of a politician's disingenuousness.

How many of you are there? He finally asked, trying to envision the group helmed by the silvered woman, and Wren, who was her wife. Idly, he imagined that she would bring with her a flock of songbirds.