Nova Peak the voices in my head suggest a less than peaceful side

an immense weight carried in the words he spoke next; to sobeille it conjured the image of an eagle on the wind.

the wolves of the rise had been this close to sapphique and they had not suffered for it; selfishly, sobeille wished for a similar arrangement. it was not in her nature to prohibit neighbors. while a fierce territoriality existed within her, it found its end along the broken teeth of the sound and cliff.

he took the kill and laid it atop the other pelts swarming his back. from a distance, he looked as if an amalgamation of many mammals, some spectre described in chilling tales told to keep sapphiqian children at heel.

redtail rise. sobeille offered, scanning the distant hills as if the ghosts of that pack might rise from the granite. yet last she had seen mulherin, the rise had fallen and she could not accuse the stjernbergian of having a hand in it. de wolves were good neighbors to us. she allowed such a statement to swim the current between them, an apprising eye upon him to see if he'd pick up on the nuances of all that was both said and unsaid.