Fox's Glade crystal rain

Eivor was swift to the point—something Akavir could appreciate, particularly when his paws itched to lead him back home to the creek he had spent a moon cycle from. No doubt, she was of the same mind.

Her idea was interesting—he considered many of the ways they could assist Toula in her endeavor—but as much as he would give her the best of his abilities simply for her kindness, endangering his pack was not something he could consider.

His eyes were sharp upon her—gaze trailing over the woman in consideration. “We send a minimum of two able-fighters. A healer as well would be ideal,” he ruminated—the swirling thoughts pulling him to a sit. “Travel the valley perimeters or paths within—down to Muat-riya in the desert. To Akashingo. Then home, and another round sent.” He paused—waiting for her thoughts. He thought her an able strategist.

“You should know the threat is possibly larger, now.”