Greatwater Lake no one told you when to run--you missed the starting gun

Maegi cast Wraen a jaundiced look. It wasn't that she hadn't met bad wolves, it was that they hadn't been bad to her. But. . .semantics. She shook her head at the description given; the name was too far off as well. She would remember Skullchaser forever--the sound of it was burned into her mind for life.

"He was gray, but not old," she responded, feeling a bit deflated. It would have been nice to have some lead. "He had very cold dark blue eyes. That's what I remember the most." She could see them now, drilling into her, as if peeling back the layers of her soul, one by one. Maegi shuddered, and looked away, gazing over the lake.

"He was part of a group of wolves there. I'm not sure where--I was knocked unconscious down here and they dragged me up." Vague, blurry images flashed through her mind. Feelings. Pelt against stone. Cold. . .cold. A splitting pain in her skull. She shook it off once more, blinking a couple of times before staring at Wraen again. "I guess I'll just have to keep looking for him."