Qeya River speak, memory - of the cunning hero, the wanderer

Ksura wet his lips with a swipe of his tongue and sniffed- for any traces of the animal’s scent that might yet linger upon the wolf who sought sanctuary amongst her own kind. Panthers were a definite threat. He’d heard, as a child, that if you managed to clap eyes on one, odds were it had been watching you for longer. 

He would have been more comfortable making any decisions if either Wren or Silvertongue had been handy- but as it was, he felt they’d invested some measure of trust in him and when Senka turned to look to him too, he paused, and then nodded. 

It would be better to show some authority, he thought, than to make it obvious that there were no leaders present. We’ll take you to fresh water, He said, before looking to Senka.

Something about the stranger didn’t read quite right- and it felt best to have two pairs of eyes on him.