Sun Mote Copse Now I know that light guided me here

The woman’s greeting felt like sunlight on wet fur. My friend. Merel could not help but smile, comforted by the simple honesty and kindness of it. She looked young, though her age was difficult to judge; she was close to giving birth, too, if her memories of her mother’s second litter were accurate.

I was following an elk, Merel admitted. There’s a cow with a limp; she’s crossed into your lands just south of here.

At least some of the markers had to belong to the golden she-wolf, though she smelled others now, their scents mingled with the stranger’s pelt. Nearly all were women, as far as she could tell. It made her curious.

Your pack will have more use of the meat than me, she added with a wry grin. May I ask your name?