Otatso Wetlands Phoenix

Go to Kvarsheim, she had urged her daughters.

The stone circle loomed large in the distance, invisible from across so many miles but exuding a heaviness which had clung to her all the way to Casco Bay and back. They would be safe there. Sven would look after them.

They would be safe. That was what mattered.

Reverie had wandered from the company of her guards, as she often did when the day was quiet and the wolf-scents few and far between. No sign of Sunfil here, not for many many miles, and yet — the crunch of leaves beneath a wary fox's feet sent a prickle along her spine. Her gilded eyes traced the distant movement until it faded to nothing. She wondered what Dusty Rose must be thinking just then. She wondered if Witch Island felt as empty to him as the world felt to her now.

Paws turned westward, she pressed on.