Arrow Lake bile quartet

"Are you a Mayfair?"

The spirits say so, he replied evenly, though a chill ran down his spine as the man voiced the name, his hairs on end. No wonder his paws had been drawn here. Inexorable, magnetic. . .

Hex took a few steps further to the stranger and finally caught the scent of him, though masked as it was by water. He knew that smell well, and regarded the other wolf with a different kind of look, chin slightly elevated.

You're from the Creek, the shadow remarked. It wasn't a question. One of my father's packmates.

Why had he come up into the mountains?