Swiftcurrent Creek played-a-live

He found his tongue pressing to the roof of his mouth for a moment—suspicion coiling within him that he had trouble shaking away. How could he, given so many recent events and a life of upheaval? Why did she want to know their plan of attack—second thoughts, perhaps—wishing to warn the man?

“Well,” he began, feeling Viinturuth’s eyes upon him—quiet, for the moment. “As we know, he’s pretty damn big. Mae wouldn’t have stood a chance alone—he told her women needed to learn their place and stay quiet, or something like that.” He licked his lips—swallowing the rumble of anger that threatened as a growl.

“The attack was in the marsh. It slowed him down—pretty sure the only reason I forced him into submission is because he was actually stuck in the mud.” His eyes narrowed—regret. Had he known the damage done then, he would have finished him.

“Do you know how he fights? Any certain movements or maneuvers that might help us?”

He could indulge more if she did—but the truth was… his only point of attack was locate the man, and take a handful of wolves and bring him to justice.