Totoka River it was the clan

Caiaphas had spent much time alongside the sea as of late, though not for its ponderous company. The salt stung the wounds along her legs and muzzle, yet the water cleansed it and kept her flesh from rainrot or worse. Proudflesh had developed along her angular muzzle, and if she was ugly before, she was certainly heinous to behold now.

As preoccupied as she was with her sorry self, there was no mistaking the scent that wafted along the river. The slender waif lifted her head from the rushing water and looked about her curiously, one torn and battered ear canted towards Lasher's familiar figure. She paused with her rawboned muzzle uplifted, inspecting his scent. It was different -- it had many accents not his own. Remaining silent, she regarded the dark sorrel man with distance.