Nova Peak what’s yours is mine.

Shook from sleep, Stormchaser groaned in protest and pushed his leg against Qiao. The old crone did not seem to appreciate the benefits of a long rest. When he finally pushed himself to rise, he was forced to hurry to catch up to the other two. All the while, he wore a displeased expression and slightly bristled hackles. He wasn’t much of a morning-person. Then again, he wasn’t much at any other time either.

When they drew near to a den and the sound of pups could be heard from within, the stormy yearling looked to Qiao and found memories of being young - being lost in the woods and finding the sharp-eyed woman who had collected him. Stormchaser had been an offering, a sacrifice, and he couldn’t help but wonder if these pups were destined for the same ill fate.

A warning was issued, not to let the man touch them.

But the man was wickedly protective and seemingly deranged. He spat at them, howling to leave them alone. Did he not think that his illness would infect them? Had the sickness also claimed any sense he might have had? It seemed so.

Stormchaser growled low, warning to the sick man.

You want them to be buried too?

There was a distinct lack of empathy in his tone. Still he tried to appeal to whatever was left of this man’s mind.