Silver Creek hermae

Makhai halted to mark a tree with long scratches down its trunk. He brushed a shoulder roughly against the jagged marks to leave strands of black fur behind, and moved ahead to find another place to mark. For several long minutes he worked in silence, leaving traces of the Corax wherever he went.

So you think we will, the Prince commented after a time. Replace what was lost. It seemed a foreign concept to him. Their kingdom had been vast, their history so ancient as to be untraceable to its true origins. Now they were nothing; royalty in name only, and so few of them at that.