Swiftcurrent Creek But what we learn in the dark can see us through

Reverie wanted a word alone with him—and so he had given a nod to both Arric and Morwenna, lifting the assembled packs of good the creek wolves had taken with them, and led her through the creek. Her guard left behind—no doubt, Arric would attend the man with either company or a place to settle for the night.

His eyes felt the heaviness of fatigue—often times, he wondered if he should settle a more permanent den.

With grim amusement, he wove the path to Muskrat’s abandoned den site—the line of bones still gathered along one side, while the other seemed to have been tampered with. By nature, likely—or perhaps one of the more curious pups of the creek.

There, near the entrance of the cave, the man dropped the belongings—not allowing the exhale of relief to be noticeable before he rolled a shoulder, craning his neck slightly and feeling a light crack as tension released.

For tonight, the items could be placed here—tomorrow, they could be dealt with.

He turned to Reverie, pale eyes catching upon the glow of her form against the warning of dusk. He had listened to her words as they slowly walked—a churning of questions burning within him. Three packs had apparently claimed a war upon the pack led by Reverie’s parents—all for the sake of her children, who apparently resided in Kvarsheim.

“That’s a lot to take in,” he admitted—an apologetic grimace upon his features as he sat down. “I guess the biggest question I have… is what do they plan to do with your children, Reverie?” In truth, he knew nothing about her culture—and perhaps that’s why this felt like only half a puzzle was presented to him. “And… you know Kvarsheim is lead only by two yearlings who haven’t even a chance for the world to test them yet, right?” Were her girls truly safe there? Why wouldn’t she take her family and vanish?