Moonspear sêr saethu

To her annoyance, it was a rangy yearling that answered her call first, rather than the leadership she sought. 

Or perhaps this is the leader, Madhuri thought with some horror, swallowing pique and trepidation both as she prepared to be addressed. If a wolf still slightly wet behind the ears led this great pack, perhaps things had gone south here, too.

Then, things grew even more perplexing.

Her golden chin jutted upward in unconscious response to the title, and sorrow filled her sapphire gaze. Mynydd has fallen, Madhu told him, voice low and grave. I—

Her lips tightened as another thought occured to her—spies. There was no way of knowing whether this was a trap laid for her by the usurpers, having staked out her position.

But, then, how to know to come here? And why address her as such, when a more subtle touch would do?

How do you know me? she asked after a moment of silent contemplation, her gimlet stare giving him a thorough once-over. If he had escaped from the kingdom, he'd been one of the lucky few—quite lucky, in fact, for the scents upon his pelt told the story of his living on the Moonspear for some time.