Emberwood branch-waving

"i know everything about the valley," mumbled lestan before he realized he had spoken aloud, and in vanity! hubris to recognize his own ability.
lestan, resigned now that all things were out of his hands, as it were, found something else to focus on in the striking man's focus: claim.
claim?
he thought of the three valley packs and their terse acquaintance; he looked back through the tree-cover toward the unexplainable saatsine;
then of his beloved deer, already hunted by teeth in his own pack.
defensive now, blinking quickly as emotions clashed inside his gut, lestan tried to remind himself that claiming beautiful things was indeed their design. "th-there are t-two other packs besides m-mine," came his quiet voice. "kvarsheim and bearclaw v-valley. one is known f-for k-kindness, the other is m-more a mystery."
lestan shooed away the shoal of inner misgivings and refocused upon those eloquent dark eyes once more.