Qeya River Shadowblight

Shadowpaw, he repeated, tasting her name like a new language.

Shadowpaw, though humorless, expressed no shortage of curiosity.

Wake was aware that she would simply wring him of whatever she deemed useful and swiftly be on her way, but he would never pass on an opportunity to extol the virtues of his religion. Not even the patronizing lift of her self-important chin would stop him.

I share the knowledge of True Fates, he answered, gladsome. I come from the Rhythm folk. We believe there are signs in nature, a purpose for all. We honor our gods with prayer and sacrifice, and we celebrate the inevitable. The seasons, the weather, the living, and the dead.

He felt as she did in her heart. There was no path better laid than the path laid before them all by the Rhythm. What spirits rule your Clan? he coaxed, head tilting the other way.