The Sunspire [m] war dart

The call had been given—Muskrat informing the creek wolves she would be hunting on the mountain, and Akavir had considered it odd for her.

Had she not intended to go with them to the bearclaw wolves to act as a messenger, above all else?

He had hunted on his own in the meantime—small game, enough to feed Mae, himself, and even a ravenous Arlette who had four puppies to nurse.

When Muskrat did not return in days time, he worried for her—irate at himself for even allowing that, given the spitfire had stampeded into his life by trying to steal from him and his family.

So he scaled the mountains—and as he began to track down the feisty she-wolf, it was with a new understanding to her fleeing—and when pale champagne eyes fell upon the fire-kissed pelt, studying her from a distance, gaze narrowed, trying to see if her leg and ankle were still well.

Though now he knew it was not a fresh injury that kept her from returning home.