Duck Lake and every day i'd save a quarter of my pay

the slender wolf of swiftcurrent appeared to be considering his offer. thorn could read it in the circumspect solemnity of her gaze, the examining way she looked over him, her doe-eyes pooled with thought.

her voice had taken a quieter turn, a feat for a wolf already predisposed to vocal softness. thorn nodded, eager -- no -- ready to oblige her, even if her explanation of the wolves in the creek went discontinued. he had seen enough of the wolves in ruenna's pack to form his own opinions, and simply gave her an understanding look.

"diaspora is run by stigmata, a wolf you know -- and mahler, his kapitan. it is like no pack i have ever been in. i grew up with my family, and these wolves are more kin than my blood.. diaspora is--" at this, the dark brute paused, gesticulating helplessly at his own ardent lack of eloquence -- "it is not for the faint of heart. but i don't believe you are faint of heart."