Dawnlark Plains victory

Two figures materialized in the middle distance. Bushtit’s head reared back, though his momentum didn’t falter, particularly when he recognized one of the two. It was strange, seeing Leto out here in this winter wonderland rather than the usual desert backdrop they shared. What was she doing this far north?

Before he could ask or respond to her greeting, the yearling’s eyes cut past her to the second she-wolf. She hung back a ways, attention fixed on Leto and himself. Bushtit gazed at her for a beat, sensing a familiarity that didn’t make sense, since he’d certainly never seen her before. When she didn’t come closer, he shrugged internally and refocused upon his friend.

Leto! ¿Qué pasa? Bushtit said warmly. What the hell are you doing so far from Verapaz?