Qeya River crudo

It was not his place to speak; Redd, as Wealda, knew much more than he did about the ranks of the Rise, the dynamics between them. They were an extension of herself, a biological system spanning many bodies. But even as a relative newcomer, he had noticed the seeming lack of healers, of pupsitters.

An ear flicked back at the mention of witches. His curiosity was piqued, but he resolved to ask these questions later. On another visit to Riverclan once they stenciled in their borders, perhaps. For now he comfortably settled into the backseat of the exchange, watching Redd take the wheel with warm eyes.