Qeya River that wears the crown

the chieftain's wife had been meddling with herbs on the riverbed. her paws worked diligently washing through the dirt of her stock, letting it rove down the river in a dark stream. a tune, one her own mother had sung, left her lips beneath her breath; featherlight.

it was until her breath caught in her throat; agony of choked blood squeamish as it festered in the air. star eater looked up— sun eater? no, it was not her husband who bled today. it was blackfell.

despite his insolence and negging of gjalla, she put it aside. jumping from the curt area she had been keeping with the boundary of rocks and hides, she called to him.

come. quickly. she urged him, before others come.